


The Woods are Lovely, Dark, and Deep

by downhill_tumble



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Dark Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 05:01:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/downhill_tumble/pseuds/downhill_tumble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Once upon a time, in a castle deep inside an enchanted forest, there lived a king and queen and their four beautiful children...</i>
</p>
<p>They say that the Dark Woods used to be a magical kingdom before an evil sorceress came and killed the entire royal family in one night. You should stay far away from the woods or the sorceress might kill you, too...or worse. They also say that the sorceress didn't manage to kill everyone that night, that the young prince managed to get away, rescued by the fairies. Now he's hidden away somewhere, trapped in an eternal sleep. And if the stories are true, he might be the only key to defeating the sorceress once and for all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Woods are Lovely, Dark, and Deep

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for mentions of cannibalism, disturbing imagery, depression, and suicidal thoughts. See the end notes for spoilers regarding the major character death.
> 
> The [art](http://accidentalziam.tumblr.com/post/76499266788/when-their-son-was-born-the-fairy-closest-to-the) for this story was provided by [accidentalziam](http://accidentalziam.tumblr.com/).

_Once upon a time, in a castle deep inside an enchanted forest, there lived a king and queen and their four beautiful children. They were friends with fairy-kind, some even said that they were part fae themselves, and at each of their four children's births members of the fairy court came to bestow their blessings. When their son was born, the fairy closest to the king and queen, godmother to all their children, came with her three sisters to bestow blessings on the child. "He will have beauty unmatched in all the known kingdoms," said the first fairy. "He will have a keen intellect, as great as any scholar," said the second. "He will have great power," said his godmother. "For the magic that runs through your family's veins runs thickest through his." Then the final sister stepped forward. "He will face much danger in his life," she proclaimed. "But the love he inspires in others will be his strength and safeguard."_

_For many years the king and queen and their four children lived happily and their kingdom prospered, but one day an evil sorceress came to the castle. On the eve of the prince's eighteenth birthday, the evil sorceress attacked the castle so that she could take the kingdom for herself, killing the king and queen and the three princesses. But, before she could murder the prince, fairies came and took him away, for even though the sorceress was too powerful for them to overcome, they knew that as long as the prince and his magic lived, the kingdom would not truly be under the evil sorceress' control. So the fairies cast the prince into a deep sleep and hid him away where the sorceress could never find him. And there he remains, awaiting the day that the sorceress can be defeated so that he may reclaim his throne…_

 

 

~*~*~*~

 

_The young prince was all on fire at these words, believing, without weighing the matter, that he could put an end to this rare adventure; and, pushed on by love and honor, resolved that moment to look into it._  ~ “The Sleeping Beauty in the Wood”  _(Charles Perrault)_

 

 

**Harry**

 

Harry would insist every time the story was told that he honestly hadn't been trying to find the dragon that the townspeople claimed had been stealing their livestock. He hadn't even believed that there was a dragon to find, since his mother and Sir Ben had both insisted that there hadn't been a dragon anywhere near the kingdom of Bayern in half a century, much less one hiding in a cave and snacking on some remote town's sheep. Admittedly, they had also told him multiple times not to wander off; a town lying so close to the shadow of the  _Rubinberge_  was hardly the safest of places for a prince barely past his seventh birthday to go unsupervised, dragon or no. But it had been the first time his mother had allowed him to accompany her on her inspection of the kingdom and it had also been the farthest he had ever been from home, so when his sister had gotten bored of playing with him and his nursemaid had nodded off in the afternoon heat, Harry had been far too curious to pass up the opportunity to do some exploring. He hadn't meant to go as far as he did, though, and he certainly hadn't meant to wind up in a cave where he found himself face to face with the (very real after all) dragon. Harry couldn't really say who had been more surprised - him or the dragon. For a long moment they had simply stared at each other in a sort of stunned silence until Harry remembered his manners.

"Hello Dragon," he said politely. "I am Prince Harry of Bayern." He gave a bow, dipping a bit too low and almost falling over before he managed to straighten up. The dragon made a noise that sounded suspiciously like an amused snort.

"Greetings, Prince Harry," the dragon said in a deep, sibilant voice. It bared its teeth at him in what Harry hoped was meant to be a smile. “I must say, you’re much smaller than the last prince I had any dealings with. I do hope you are not here to challenge me. You would not even be a mouth-full. Hardly seems worth the effort.”

Harry gulped. He wondered if the dragon meant that it had eaten the last prince it had dealt with, but decided he didn’t really want to ask.

“No-o, I’m very sorry to have intruded, I, um, got lost?” Harry hastened to explain. "I just wanted to look around a little because I've never been so close to the mountains before and I know I wasn't supposed to wander off but Gemma didn't want to play with me anymore and Miss Mary fell asleep and Sir Ben said that there wasn't really a dragon except that here you are, but maybe he had only said that because he didn't want me to be scared because Gemma says that sometimes grown-ups tell us things that aren't true because they want to keep us safe from everything, even from being afraid, and I fell in a hole and I couldn’t get out and I could only go down the tunnel and that's why I'm here now."

The dragon just gave a slow blink.

"I'm not here to challenge you," Harry told it.

"Good," the dragon said and gave Harry another of its terrifying smiles.

They both stared at each other in awkward silence for a moment, then, for lack of anything better to do, began making awkward conversation instead. The dragon told Harry a bit about how it had come to reside in this cave - it had been living deeper in the mountains but grew tired of eating ogres and decided to come here where there were plenty of delicious sheep and cows for the taking, even if it did have to be careful about only coming out at night so as not to be attacked by angry farmers. (Harry considered telling it that if it didn’t want to have to deal with angry farmers it probably shouldn’t be stealing their livestock, but he remembered the previous prince that may or may not have been eaten and decided not to say anything.)

Harry, in turn, told the dragon about his favorite story - The Sleeping Prince.

“They say that the Dark Woods used to be a magical kingdom,” Harry said. “And the royal family was magical too. But then an evil sorceress came and killed them all and took over the kingdom and that’s why the Dark Woods is so dangerous now, because she killed all the people and her dark magic made all the animals go mad and they say that even the trees are evil now and they help her lure anyone foolish enough to enter the Dark Woods to her castle so she can  _eat_  them.”

Harry paused, waiting for the dragon’s horrified gasp, but when it just continued to watch him silently he realized that a dragon that may or may not eat princes probably wouldn’t be all that scandalized by an evil sorceress that ate a few unwary travelers. Harry gave a little cough and moved on.

“But there was a prince that escaped from the evil sorceress and he’s been in a magical sleep for a hundred years waiting until she’s defeated and he can reclaim his kingdom.”

“And how, pray tell, did this prince escape?” the dragon asked

“Oh, the fairies saved him!” Harry explained. “And then they cast the spell for him to sleep and now they watch over him and keep him safe.”

"Fairies saved him?" the dragon scoffed. “Those capricious, self-serving menaces?”

Harry frowned. “Of course they did. The fairies were the royal family’s friends.”

“Fairies do not have friends,” the dragon replied. It pinned Harry with hard stare. "Listen to me boy and do not forget,” it said. “Fairies can never lie but that does not mean they always tell the truth. Fairies are not to be trusted."

Harry frowned harder, confused and a little upset. This wasn’t how telling the story was supposed to go. The dragon seemed to notice his shift in mood because it sighed.

“As much as I have enjoyed our time together, it is probably best for you to leave now before anyone comes searching for you,” it said.

Harry glanced around nervously. “Alright,” he agreed. “It’s just that I don’t really know how to get out?”

The dragon smiled again. “Not to worry,” it told him. It stepped forward until its great snout was almost touching him. Harry froze, though more out of uncertainty than fear. “Goodbye Prince Harry. It was an unexpected pleasure to meet you. And best of luck finding your slumbering prince.”

Harry opened his mouth to tell the dragon that the Sleeping Prince wasn’t the one that needed to be found, but before he could the dragon touched its nose to Harry’s chest and with a great  _pop_  Harry found himself in a field just outside of the town he had wandered off from. After quickly assuring himself that he was still all in one piece, Harry turned and ran towards where he could hear people calling his name, intent on telling everyone all about his adventure.

 

~*~ * ~*~

 

When Harry finishes up afternoon training he finds Ben and James waiting for him at the edge of the yard.

“Checking up on me?” Harry asks, walking over to them. James smiles and hands him a flask of water that Harry gratefully accepts, but Ben’s focus is on the group of squires running through one last set of drills with Sir Cal.

“How’s training coming along?” Ben asks.

Harry swallows down the last of the water and wipes his mouth before replying. “Good. They’re all progressing really well. Cal thinks some of them are even ready for patrols.”

“Have you gotten any better at yelling at them when they screw up or are you still letting Cal handle that for you?” James teases him.

Harry scowls at him while Ben chuckles.

“I’m afraid it’s all my fault,” Ben says, hanging his head in mock solemnity. “I was much too soft on Harry when I was training him.”

Harry glares at him. “You used to make me run laps in full armor!”

“Yes,” Ben agrees, smirking at him. “But I never yelled at you while you did them.”

Harry makes a face at him and James bursts into laughter. Harry feels his own lips twitch but he stubbornly fights back a smile. He goes to shove Ben’s shoulder and trips over a rock hidden in the grass. Ben manages to grab him by the arm before he tumbles to the ground.

“Sometimes I worry we let you start your sword training far too young, your highness,” Ben says wryly after Harry’s steadied himself. “Clearly you never got a chance to develop your balance while empty handed.”

Flushed with embarrassment, Harry desperately hopes none of the squires saw any of that. “Did the two of you just come here to mock me, then?” he demands, shaking free of Ben’s hold.

“Oh no, that was just an added bonus,” James replies.

“I actually came to ask if you wanted to have dinner with me down at the Silver Stag,” Ben tells him.

Harry blinks, surprised. “Um, sure. That sounds nice.”

James and Ben exchange a look. “I was just telling him about the bard they have staying there at the moment,” James says. “I thought the two of you might want to go see him for yourself.”

Harry perks up in interest. “Oh. Yes, I’d like that.”

Ben smiles. “Good.” He looks at James. “You coming with us?”

James shakes his head. “I need to get home. I’ve got a child to take care of now, so I can’t be staying out at all hours with you two hooligans.” he jokes.

“According to my wife, I’ve been taking care of this child for years,” Ben replies, poking Harry’s cheek with a teasing smile. Harry scrunches up his face in annoyance and pulls away.  Though even he has to admit that Meredith has a point. Ben’s probably spent more time taking care of Harry over the years than all his nursemaids combined. Still, the reminder that a part of Ben will always see Harry as the wide-eyed toddler that followed him around like a duckling rankles. He’s not a child anymore, even though it seems like most people are content to continue treating him like one.

“You better go get changed,” Ben tells him, still smiling, though it’s more fond than teasing now. “We’ll want to leave as soon as you’re ready.”

“Alright,” Harry agrees. He hugs James goodbye and heads into the castle.

Harry hurries down the passageways and barges noisily into his room, startling Liam out of his nap. The dog blinks sleepily for a moment before jumping down and padding over to where Harry is searching the wardrobe for his favorite tunic.

“Hey boy,” Harry greets him. “Do you know if they dropped off some fresh water yet? I need to get cleaned up. Ben’s taking me to the Silver Stag for dinner.”

Liam tilts his head towards the table by the window where, sure enough, a pitcher of faintly steaming water is sitting next to a basin and a clean cloth. Harry gives him a quick pat in thanks and heads over to the table, stripping his clothes off as he goes. It doesn’t take him long to clean himself off and change, and he’s just pulling on his tunic when there’s a knock on the door.

“Ready?” Ben asks when Harry opens it. He glances down at where Liam is pressed against Harry’s side, tail wagging as Harry scratches behind his ear. “Liam coming, too?”

Harry nods and they all set off, Ben and Harry nodding at the guards as they leave the castle and head down into the city. Quelle is said to be the oldest city in Bayern and the Silver Stag Inn has existed nearly as long as the city itself has. Though not very large, it’s clean and well-kept and, according to James, surprisingly cheap, so it’s no surprise when they enter and find a small crowd of diners already gathered for an early supper. Harry and Ben quietly find seats towards the back and Liam settles down under the table by their feet.

A woman bearing a platter of drinks comes over to them as soon as they’re seated.

“Sir Ben!” she greets. “Master Corden said you’d be along tonight.” She glances over at Harry and her eyes widen a little in surprise. “Your highness!” She curtsies (Harry is impressed when her tray doesn’t even wobble) and smiles at them. “Welcome to the Silver Stag. Is there anything I can get you?”

“Hello Martha,” Ben greets. “We’d like some wine and two plates of whatever the cook has prepared for the evening, thank you.” He gestures towards the fire where a chair is sitting empty on the raised hearth. “We heard there would be a bard performing here tonight.”

“Oh, Ed,” Martha says with a nod. “Yes, he’ll be down in a bit.” She glances at Harry and he thinks he sees a hint of a flush on her dark cheeks. “I suppose you’ll be wanting to hear The Sleeping Prince?”

Harry glances at Ben, surprised. Ben grins and winks at him. “Yes, please let him know that there’s been a special request,” Ben tells Martha.

“Of course, sir,” Martha replies, dipping quickly down in another curtsy before rushing off towards the kitchen.

“So that’s why you brought me here,” Harry says.

“Yes, well, I know it’s been nearly a whole month since you heard it last,” Ben teases. He nudges Harry’s side. Harry laughs and nudges him back. “James said he’d never heard this bard’s version of the song before. Knew that of course you’d want to hear it for yourself.”

Harry grins, excited. It’s been a long time since he’s heard a version of the Sleeping Prince he wasn’t already familiar with.

Their food and drinks arrive moments later and they had only just begun eating when a man with bright red hair walks in carrying a guitar. The crowd quickly hushes as he walks over to his chair by the fire. Before he sits down Martha rushes over and whispers something in his ear. Harry sees the man’s eyebrows go up before he nods. He smiles, looking out over the room. “Hello everyone,” he says, sitting down and beginning to strum his guitar. “It seems we’ve had a request so I’ll go ahead and start things off with an old favorite.”

The tune he plays is different than Harry is used to, but for the most part the words are the same. Still, Harry feels himself leaning forward, caught up in the performance and when Ed sings about the deaths of the king, queen, and the three princesses his voice is so hauntingly sad that Harry feels his breath catch. Then Harry’s breath catches for an entirely different reason.

“ _And now he waits_ ,” Ed sings.

“ _For the one who is noble and pure of heart to come so he may awake_

_Only then can the crown be returned to its rightful place_.”

Harry claps along with everyone else when Ed finishes but he hardly notices as the next song begins. He feels dazed, his mind whirling. He has heard the story told many, many times over the years, but never once had it been suggested that the Sleeping Prince needed to be woken up  _before_  the evil sorceress was defeated.

Harry only half listens to the rest of the songs, only remembering to eat when Ben gives his mostly untouched plate a concerned glance. Even then most of the food ends up being passed under the table to a waiting Liam instead.

“Did you want to head back to the castle now?” Ben asks when Ed takes a break.

Harry shakes his head. “I want to talk to him first.” He stands up and waves at the bard. Martha notices him first, and tugs at Ed’s arm and points at Harry. Ed looks confused, but he walks over to their table after Martha gives him a shove.

“Hello, good sirs,” Ed greets them with a small bow. “Was there something you needed?”

“Yes,” Ben says, “I am Sir Ben Winston and this is his highness, Prince Harry. And what is your name?”

Ed bows again. “Ed Sheeran, my lord, at your service.”

Harry sits back down. “Please join us, Ed.” He waves Martha over as Ed settles in across from him. “Please get our friend whatever he’d like,” he requests.

“Just a drink, love, thank you,” Ed tells her. She smiles at him and leaves. Ed turns back to Harry, waiting.

“Your performance was lovely,” Harry says.

Ed smiles. “Thank you, sire. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Harry smiles back. “Please, you can call me Harry,” he tells him, ignoring Ben’s disapproving sigh. He’s been lectured his whole life about the ‘respect due to him and his status’ but that doesn’t make being called  _sire_  and _your_   _highness_  when he’s just trying to have a conversation with someone any less exhausting.

Ed blinks, clearly taken aback, but his smile widens. “Alright...Harry,” he agrees after a moment’s hesitation.

“I was just wondering if I could ask you something about one of your songs,” Harry says as Martha returns with Ed’s drink. He mutters a distracted “thanks,” taking the cup while keeping his attention locked on Harry.

“Of course,” he says.

“I don’t know if you’re aware that I was the one who requested you sing The Sleeping Prince,” Harry begins.

Ed looks faintly amused. “It’s well known that you have a certain...fondness for the story.”

Ben snorts. Harry elbows him in the side, trying not to scowl too obviously.

“It’s a good story,” Ed says, his tone surprisingly sincere. Harry smiles gratefully at him.

“It is,” he agrees. “Anyways, I’d never heard your version of the ending before and I was wondering where you learned it?”

“Oh,” Ed says. “Well I’ve done a lot of traveling these last few years. Made my way over into Thorthúil and even down into Calabria.” Harry is impressed; the man doesn’t look much older than Harry’s own seventeen years and that was a long way to have traveled for one so young, especially if he had done it all on his own. “The Sleeping Prince is popular tale all over, especially in places close to the Dark Woods. That particular version I picked up in a little fishing village in Thorthúil from an old man who claimed his grandmother had lived in the Dark Woods before the sorceress came.”

“Do you think he was telling the truth?” Harry asks, excited.

Ed shrugs. “Perhaps. His version of the story certainly makes the most sense.”

Ben frowns. “How so?”

“Well, according to the story the prince wasn’t the eldest child - at least one of his sisters was older than him - so if the fairies had just wanted to rescue the heir why take him? There must have been something special about him in particular that made the fairies choose to save him instead of any of the others. Also, I’ve never heard of anyone going into the Dark Woods and surviving, so I don’t see how anyone could manage to even find the sorceress unless they have the prince’s help,” Ed explains. He chuckles a little, sitting back and taking a sip from his drink. “Then again, it’s just a story. It’s not like anyone alive has so much as seen a fairy. Who’s to say any of it is real?”

“Fairies are real,” Harry replies. “A dragon told me so.”

“The one you met ten years ago?” Harry nods. “Did it know anything about the Sleeping Prince?” Ed asks, sounding genuinely curious.

“No,” Harry sighs. “But it also told me that dragons don’t normally care much about the dealings of humans so that’s hardly surprising.”

“Well there you go,” Ed says. “Perhaps the story’s true after all. But I’m telling you, if it is, the prince isn’t waiting for someone to defeat the sorceress for him. If that was going to happen, it would have already. The prince is waiting for someone to find him and the two of them will have to defeat the sorceress together.”

“Someone ‘noble and pure of heart,’” Harry muses.

“Yes,” Ed agrees. “Those were exact words the old man used. Said that his grandmother told him it was important. Wasn’t sure what it meant exactly, but we both figured it must have to do with the spell the prince is under.”

Harry nods, slowly turning it all over in his head. “Thank you, Ed,” he says.

“You’re welcome, Harry.” Ed smiles then glances back towards his chair on the hearth. “If it’s alright, I think I should probably get back to singing for my supper now.”

“Of course,” Ben says, standing up. Harry rises with him and, under the table, Liam stretches and then crawls out so he can stand up as well.

“It was a pleasure meeting you,” Harry says.

Ed bows. “It was a pleasure to meet you as well. I hope this isn’t the last we see of each other.”

Harry smiles, finding himself hoping the same.

“Go on,” Ben tells him once Ed turns and walks away. “I’ll meet you outside in just a moment.”

With a quick wave and smile at Martha, who smiles and ducks her head when she sees, Harry complies, Liam tagging along faithfully at his side. He stops just outside the door, petting Liam and looking around aimlessly while they wait for Ben, when he spots a group of boys across the street.

There are four of them standing almost directly across from the Silver Stag, huddled together and laughing, all of them wearing uniforms that identify them as novice sorcerers. Harry knows right away when they notice him - they all fall silent and he sees one elbow another and point towards him. Harry starts to turn away so he won’t be caught staring, but finds himself caught by a pair of bright blue eyes. The boy can’t be much older than Harry and he has the face of a pixie - all sharp cheekbones and pointy chin, short brown hair blowing about in the slight breeze. He grins at Harry, slow and mischievous, and Harry find himself grinning back before he even thinks about it.

“Ready to go?” Ben’s voice comes from behind him. Harry whips around, startled, and nearly trips over Liam.

“Ye-yes,” Harry replies, trying to regain his balance.

Ben grins and claps him on the shoulder before heading off down the road towards the castle. Harry glances back over at the group of boys but they’re gone. Harry frowns, then shrugs and turns to follow after Ben, putting the incident out of his mind with ease as his thoughts return once more to the Sleeping Prince.

 

~*~*~*~

 

There are two things Harry has never told anyone about: what he saw the night his father’s body was brought home and the dream.

It’s easy enough to understand why he had never spoken about the former, but even he isn’t certain why he’s never told anyone that’s he’s been having the same dream nearly every other night for going on ten years now.

It wasn’t a coincidence that his obsession with the Sleeping Prince began shortly after his father’s death. He suspects the reason his friends and family have continued to humor his hunger for anything and everything related to the story through the years is that they all decided it was his way of coping with his grief. But Harry doubts they know that on the nights when he had woken up in tears with images of torn flesh and blood still fresh in his mind, he would lie awake in bed wondering if the lost prince ever had any nightmares while he slept all alone in his tower. Or how Harry would promise himself that someday he would make sure the prince wouldn’t have to be alone anymore.

He had met the dragon nearly a year after his father’s death, and that had been the catalyst for Harry’s vague self-promise to transform into an actual plan. He would defeat the evil sorceress himself and awaken the prince. But first he needed to learn how to fight. So he had cajoled Ben into training him as a knight despite his mother’s protests and Ben’s own misgivings and, just as importantly, he had begun a campaign to seek out any and all information that could be found on the Sleeping Prince. He started to have the dream shortly after beginning to enact his plan and it hadn’t been hard to figure out that there was likely a connection between the two. But it’s only after hearing Ed’s song that he realizes that perhaps he’s known all along that defeating the evil sorceress wasn’t the real key to saving the Sleeping Prince - that perhaps what the prince had really been waiting for all these years was for someone to come find him.

But having that realization doesn’t bring him any closer to knowing what to do about it. He spends the next week splitting his time between poring over old maps in the library and practicing his sword fighting with a kind of manic energy that Cal and the squires have no hope of keeping up with. He begs off running training and instead starts going on long, aimless rides on his horse Niall, Liam chasing happily after them, and coming home only after the sun has started to set. Luckily Gemma is too caught up in running the kingdom to notice his odd behavior, but he sees his mother and Ben giving him concerned looks and knows it’s only a matter of time before one of them tries to talk to him about it. He avoids them as much as he can, avoids everyone really, because he has no idea how he can explain any of this to them.

Then one night he wakes up to the scent of lilacs.

Liam is whining, high and distressed. “What is it?” Harry whispers, on high alert even as he struggles to blink the sleep from his eyes. It’s the middle of the night and the room is too dark for Harry to see anything. Liam just continues to whine, curling closer to Harry and trembling slightly. Harry really starts to worry then; this is the same dog that has faced down ogres and man-eating bears without a thought.

“Hush little one,” comes a voice from the darkness.

Harry sits frozen, cursing himself for leaving his sword so far from his bed. One would think that all those nights spent on patrol would have taught him to always keep a weapon close at hand. He’s considering making a leap for it when a glow appears at the foot of his bed. It slowly brightens until he can clearly see a woman standing there watching him intently. She has eyes like two sapphires set in her pale face and her hair is a spray of lavender blossoms down her back. There’s something about her that makes it impossible to tell how old she is, whether she’s a girl younger than him or a woman closer to his mother’s age, but as he stares into her eyes he thinks that she is perhaps far older than he could ever imagine.

She holds out her hand and Liam abruptly stops whining, going still and attentive at Harry’s side. Harry digs his fingers into his curly coat in as much an effort to settle himself as to comfort Liam.

“Hello, Prince Harry,” the woman says.

“You’re a fairy!” Harry blurts out, unsure where the knowledge comes from but certain he’s right all the same.

The fairy smiles at him. “My name is Perrie,” she tells him. “I have come to ask for your help.”

Harry gapes at her. “Me?”

She nods, her expression turning mournful. “I need you to find my godson.”

“The Sleeping Prince,” Harry breathes. There’s a little voice in the back of his mind whispering,  _this is it. This is the moment you’ve been waiting your whole life for_.

“His name is Zayn,” Perrie tells him. “And I need you to wake him up.”

Harry grips the sheets tightly with the hand not holding onto Liam. “I don’t...I don’t know where he is,” he says.

Perrie tilts her head. “You do. You’ve known for a long time, your highness.”

Harry thinks about his dream. Night after night he finds himself walking through an unfamiliar forest, searching for something. And night after night he comes upon a tower covered in thorny vines. He always wakes up before he can find a door.

“He’s still in the Dark Woods,” Harry realizes, all the pieces finally sliding into place.

“You can find him, Prince Harry. You only have to look.”

“Why are you only telling me this now?” Harry asks. “If I’ve known how to find him since I was seven years old, why did you wait so long to ask for my help?”

“You could not find him until you decided to look,” Perrie replies. “It is all a matter of intent.”

Harry nods, though he isn’t sure he really understands. “I’ll find him,” he assures her.

Perrie smiles at him, her eyes shining with relief. “Thank you. I promise I will do what I can to aid you on your quest. Go with my blessing, Prince Harry.” And with that she disappears, leaving Harry once more in darkness.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Harry honestly does consider waiting and giving himself a few days to better prepare, but he knows the longer he stays the more likely it is that Ben or his mother or any number of other people might discover what he is planning and try to stop him. So he packs his bags by candlelight and, after writing a quick note saying he had gone for an early morning ride and not to expect him back until late, he and Liam sneak past the guards and out to the stables.

He leaves Liam outside the door to stand watch and quietly grabs his tack before creeping down to Niall’s stall.

Niall nickers cheerfully in greeting when he sees Harry.

“Hey boy,” Harry whispers. “How do you feel about going on an adventure?”

Niall’s ears perk forward and he gives an excited snort. Harry grins and opens the door. He lets out a startled yelp when he immediately trips over something on the stall floor.

“Oops,” he mumbles as he pushes himself up, dusting straw off his chest and arms. He turns around to see what he had tripped over and finds himself face to face with a familiar looking blue-eyed boy.

“Hi,” the boy says, blinking at him in sleepy confusion. There’s a book and a small glass sphere containing a softly glowing blue flame sitting next to him that he must have been laying on before Harry had woken him up.

“Hello,” Harry replies, blinking in confusion right back. “Sorry, not to be rude, but would you mind telling me what you’re doing in here?”

“I was studying.” He gestures towards the book and his  _irrlicht_. “Must have fallen asleep on accident,” he adds, looking faintly embarrassed.

“Yes, alright,” Harry says. “But why were you doing that in my horse’s stall?”

“Niall and I are old friends,” the boy informs him. “We have a lifelong bond forged by our mutual love of carrots. I like to come by and check on him from time to time, make sure he’s doing alright.”

Harry frowns, feeling more confused by the second. “Does anyone know you’ve been doing this?”

The boy just waves the question away. “I’ve known the stablemaster since I was a little boy,” he replies, which, Harry notices, doesn’t really answer his question at all.

“Well,” Harry begins, and then pauses. “Sorry, what’s your name?” he asks, realizing he had failed to ask the boy before now and feeling faintly embarrassed at his own rudeness.

“Louis Tomlinson, third year student at the Bayern Academy of Sorcery. Pleasure to meet you, Prince Harry.”

He sticks out a hand and Harry is so startled by impropriety of the gesture that he ends up shaking Louis’ hand without comment.

“Well, Louis,” Harry says, feeling flustered and thoroughly wrong-footed. “I still don’t think you’re really supposed to be here, but since  _I’m_  not really supposed to be here at the moment either it seems a bit hypocritical of me to sit here and argue with you about it. So if you don’t mind I think I’ll just be on my way.”

“And why are you here?” Louis asks him, voice bright with sudden interest. They both stand up and begin shaking the straw off their clothes. Louis reaches down and grabs his book and tucks the  _irrlicht_  into his pocket - causing the stall to become distinctly dimmer.

Harry is tempted to tell Louis that he’s the prince and therefore doesn’t need to explain himself to anyone, but Louis had answered all of his questions and it only seems fair to do the same.

"You have to promise not to tell anyone," Harry tells him.

Louis looks torn, but he nods in agreement.

"Alright," he says. "I promise. Your secret's safe with me, your highness."

Harry absently chews on his bottom lip, hesitating for a moment before admitting, "I'm going on a quest."

"And this quest requires you to sneak out on horseback in the dead of night?" Louis asks, raising an eyebrow.

Harry ignores the hint of disbelief in Louis’ tone and nods.

Louis gives him a considering look. “And what exactly are you going to be doing on this quest?”

"I have to find someone."

"Will it be dangerous?"

Harry looks away. “Yes,” he says softly.

Louis frowns at him. Harry sighs and turns to quickly brush Niall down and begin saddling him up; he really did need to get going before someone else caught him.

"I'm coming with you," Louis announces as Harry finishes.

Harry spins around to stare at him.

"No you're not!"

"Of course I am! I can't very well let the prince go off on some dangerous quest all by himself. Plus taking me with you is the only way you can be sure that I won’t tell anyone about you sneaking off."

"You already promised you wouldn't tell!" Harry hisses, outraged.

"Yes alright, alright, I suppose I did promise. But I'm still not letting you go without me." Louis says, crossing his arms and staring at Harry stubbornly.

"You don't even know where I'm going," Harry argues.

"Don't care."

"You should," Harry grumbles. He sighs, feeling himself already giving in. He has to admit that having a sorcerer along, even one still in training, would probably be useful. "You'll have to ride double with me. I left a note saying I’ve just gone riding, which obviously won’t be believed for very long, but there's no point in raising their suspicions immediately by having two horses missing from the stables."

Louis glances at Niall and shrugs. "Fine."

"You slow me down or complain and I'm leaving you at the first town we pass," Harry warns. "And you have to promise that you'll listen to me and do as I say if anything happens."

"I promise."

Harry stares at him, eyes narrowed, but Louis just raises his chin and stares back.

“Come on then,” Harry sighs. “We need to hurry if we’re going to make it out before sunrise.”

 

~*~*~*~

 

“I’ve got four little sisters,” Louis is telling him, after they’ve made it out of the city and began riding down one of the less-traveled country roads. “Lottie, the oldest, has just turned thirteen. Mom says she’s turning into real handful, but I doubt that. The woman raised me after all and even a teenage girl can’t really compare to that.”

Harry laughs. Their two packs, now bulging slightly with the addition of Louis’ book and an extra cloak they had borrowed from a storeroom, bump gently against Harry’s legs. He shifts in his seat, resettling himself. “And your mother’s a midwife?” he asks.

“Uh huh. Helped birth just about every baby in our town over the years. Fiz, the second oldest, says she wants to be a midwife as well when she grows up. Can’t imagine why, to be honest. Giving birth’s a messy business. Lots of blood and crying. Not something I want to spend too much time around.”

Harry snorts. He’s hardly squeamish himself, he’s experienced far too much fighting and bloodshed over the years for that, but he can see Louis’ point.

Still. “It’s sweet though, that she wants to follow in your mother’s footsteps. Gemma, my sister…”

“Yes thanks, I am aware that Queen Gemma is your sister, believe it or not,” Louis interrupts, his voice teasing. Harry elbows him in retribution.

“Anyways, I know she was a bit nervous about becoming the Queen back before she came of age, but she was also really proud that she was going to be inheriting our father’s crown. I mean, it’s not like she really had much of a choice in the matter - well I guess she could have abdicated and made me have to be king instead, but I think we all knew that would have been a really terrible idea. But anyways, I think it made her feel closer to our father, knowing she was continuing his legacy.”

Louis is silent for a moment. “That why you became a knight?” he asks softly. “Trying to continue your father’s legacy?”

Definitely not, Harry thinks, shaking his head. He shivers and quickly pushes the thought of his father’s  _legacy_  from his mind. But he’s not sure he can find the right words to tell Louis the truth - not without sounding like a fool still hanging onto childhood fancies. “Training as a knight was about saving people,” he tells Louis instead. “Protecting those who can’t protect themselves.” It’s not quite a lie.

For a moment the only sound is the _clomp clomp_ of Niall’s hooves against the packed dirt of the road, the creak of the saddle, and Liam’s faint pants as he lopes along beside them.

“Anyways, what about your father?” Harry asks. “What does he do?”

Louis goes tense behind him. “Wouldn’t know,” he says quietly. “Never met him. He was gone before I was even born.”

Harry blinks in surprise, understanding what Louis is really saying. Gone, not dead. Harry tries to imagine it, having his father leave him by choice instead of being taken from him by circumstance. He reaches up to where Louis’ arms circle his waist and squeezes one of his hands in sympathy. Louis keeps silent, but Harry feels Louis’ forehead rest against his shoulder as they ride on.

They make good time, stopping only occasionally to rest and eat before setting off again. Harry tries not to think about what’s happening back at the castle or the odds that a squadron of knights has already been sent out in search of him. The only thing he can do is press onwards and hope he has enough of a head start to reach his destination before anyone catches him.

As the sun starts to set, Harry finds a good place to stop for the night and make camp. It’s the beginning of summer and thus warm enough even at night that there’s no need for a fire, so it doesn’t take long for them to set up. Harry untacks Niall and sets him loose to graze while Louis sets down their packs and picks a soft spot for them to sleep on. Harry settles down to look over the enchanted map his sister had given him for his last birthday before the sun sets completely. He’s looking at the towns they’ll be passing, wondering which one it would be best to leave Louis in, when Louis plops down beside him, startling him from his thoughts. Louis reaches over to pat Liam on the head before turning his attention to Harry.

“We’re going to the Dark Woods aren’t we?” he asks.

Harry gapes at him. “How did you know?”

Louis taps at the softly pulsing red dot on the map that marks their current location. “Nothing else in this direction of any interest. You know you’re crazy, right? No one’s gone in there and survived.”

Harry glares, pulling the map towards his chest protectively. “You’re the one who insisted on coming along.”

Louis shrugs, looking unconcerned. “Any friend of Niall’s is a friend of mine. And I don’t let my friends go off on dangerous quests alone.”

Harry folds the map back up and slips it back into his pack. “I’m still a bit confused about how exactly you came to be on such familiar terms with  _my_  horse.”

“Known him since the day he was born,” Louis tells him, leaning back. He tilts his head to the side to smile slyly at Harry. “I meant it when I said I’ve known James Corden since I was little. Our families are quite close and I used to help him around the stables sometimes back when he was still one of Lord Winston’s trainers.”

Three years ago James had left Ben’s parents’ estate behind and arrived in Quelle to take over the position of royal stablemaster at Ben’s request when the previous one retired. He had brought with him a year-old Niall and, if he really was in his third year at the Academy, likely Louis as well. Considering this, Harry feels almost cheated that he’s only meeting Louis now when surely their paths should have crossed years ago.

“Niall was always a favorite of mine,” Louis continues. “Easygoing for the most part, but with loads of spirit when it counted. I remember when Sir Ben brought you by his father’s stables to pick out a new horse from among the foals. James didn’t even want to show you Niall, said he was never going to be big enough to be a proper knight’s horse, but I insisted that he should give him a chance.”

Harry turns to look at where Niall stood a little ways off chewing happily on a mouthful of grass, his white coat glowing faintly gold in the fading light. He had been both a thirteenth birthday present and a gift to celebrate the broken leg Harry had suffered after a skirmish with a giant finally being healed.

“I suppose if you’re going to be getting into fights like a knight,” Ben had told him. “You should ride like one as well.”

“I liked him right away,” Harry admits. “He was friendly. And clever. Ben told me he might be too small but I didn’t care. Still don’t. He’s the best horse I’ve ever had.”

Louis’ smile has gone soft when Harry turns to face him again, but as soon as their eyes meet Louis coughs and looks away.

“So, are you going to tell me who we’re running off into the Dark Woods to look for?” Louis asks, staring pointedly out into the distance.

“His name is Zayn,” Harry says softly, remembering what Perrie had told him.

Louis turns to look at him again, raising an eyebrow. “Friend of yours?”

Harry shakes his head. “We’ve never met,” he tells him. “But it’s important that I find him.”

“And how are you going to do that, exactly?”

Harry hunches his shoulders, ducking away from Louis’ gaze. “I know where he is. Or, well, I will once we go into the Dark Woods.”

“Cryptic.”

Harry shrugs, staring down at his hands. He clasps them tightly together in his lap. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Well as long as we don’t have to worry about getting lost,” Louis says, flopping down dramatically onto his back. “Then all we have to worry about is getting murdered by magical trees or insane animals or getting eaten by the evil sorceress. Should be fine, I’m sure.”

Harry smiles. “You really don’t have to come, you know.”

Louis sighs. “You are my prince, young Harold, and as such it is my civic duty to keep you alive. Even when you run off on half-witted quests to rescue strange boys from magical forests.”

“My name isn’t Harold, you know,” Harry grumbles, but he’s fighting back a grin.

Louis reaches up and tugs sharply on one of Harry’s curls. “No, it’s Curly right?” Harry giggles and shakes his head, smiling so wide his cheeks ache. Louis makes a face of exaggerated confusion. “Prince Charming?”

Harry let’s out an embarrassingly loud bark of laughter at that. He swats at Louis. “Shut up.”

Louis grabs him by the wrist, smirking up at him. “Whatever you say,  _your highness_.”

Harry has to duck his head to hide the flush on his cheeks, but he’s still smiling even as he pulls free from Louis’ grasp.  

He’s still smiling when they both turn in for the night, Harry insisting that they needed to get an early start the next day despite Louis’ grumbles about idiot princes that don’t understand the importance of the proper amount of rest. They settle down together underneath their shared blanket, Liam curled up beside them, and Harry falls asleep to sound of Louis breathing soft and even right behind him.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Two days later they reach the last town they’ll see before they reach the Dark Woods. Harry stops a little ways outside of it and asks Louis to go into the market and buy them some more food.

“You’re not planning on riding off as soon as I’m out of sight, are you?” Louis asks suspiciously as Harry hands him some money.

A few days ago that would have been exactly Harry’s plan. But now he shakes his head. “No, of course not,” Harry assures him.

Louis gives him a narrow-eyed look.

“You can take Liam with you if it’ll make you feel better,” Harry tells him. Liam nudges Louis’ side encouragingly.

“Right,” Louis says dryly. “Because your  _dog_  is far too important to leave behind, unlike me.”

Harry gives him an exasperated look.

Louis sighs. “Alright, alright. Come along then Liam.” After one last considering look, Louis takes the money and leaves with Liam trotting along at his side.

Harry doesn’t have to wait long before Liam comes bounding back to where he and Niall are waiting. Louis appears a moment later bearing a sack full of his purchases. There’s a flash of relief on his face when he spots Harry, but he hides it quickly, smirking as he hands the food over with a mocking bow.

“Told you I wasn’t going to ride off without you,” Harry says when the food has been packed away and they’re climbing back atop Niall.

“As if you could,” Louis scoffs. “You clearly wouldn’t last a day without me.” But his arms tighten a little around Harry’s waist.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Half a day’s ride later finds them on the edge of the Dark Woods. They stop and make camp by unspoken agreement. Even Niall and Liam are eying the line of trees apprehensively as they settle in for the evening.

“My mum always told us stories about the Dark Woods. About the evil sorceress that lived in there waiting to eat naughty children. My little sisters were a lot more willing to do their chores after they heard those,” Louis tells him as they’re eating their supper.

“But not you?” Harry asks, amused.

Louis sniffs disdainfully. “I’ll have you know that I can perform some very powerful magic and am more than a match for some old sorceress,” he says, absently feeding Liam a bite of his meat.

“And that was true even when you were a little boy?” Harry teases.

Louis laughs. “Probably even more of a match for her then. Used to have a habit of accidentally setting things on fire just by looking at them too long.”

Harry snorts. “Hope you’ve got that a bit more under control now.”

“Of course,” Louis grins. “Only set things on fire on purpose now. It’s my greatest talent.”

Harry smiles and prods Louis’ thigh with his the tip of his boot. “Show me,” he demands.

Louis rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically, but after finishing the last of his roll he reaches down and plucks a blade of grass. Harry expects him to whisper some spell like he’s seen other sorcerers do, but Louis simply glares at the blade until the very tip of it sparks and catches flame. It’s only a matter of seconds before the whole thing has burned up. Louis winks at Harry and blows the remaining ashes off his palm.

“Satisfied, your highness?” he asks, smirking.

“That was brilliant!” Harry cheers. “What else can you do?”

Something in Louis’ face closes off a little. “Oh all sorts of things,” he says with a dismissive wave his hand.

Harry watches him for a moment, uncertain. “Your book, the one you were studying in Niall’s stall, it’s a spellbook, right?”

Louis glances at the pack his book is sitting inside and nods. “Just going over some things I wanted to practice.”

Harry frowns. “Do you have classes and things you should be doing right now? I mean, you just left without a word, won’t your teachers at the Academy be upset with you?”

Louis huffs, looking down and scuffing his boot in the grass. “Nah, it’ll be fine. I’m not missing anything important.”

Harry isn’t sure he believes him, but decides there’s no point trying to argue with him about it.

“We should head in as soon as the sun’s up,” Harry says, nodding towards the forest. “I want to get as far as we can while we still have sunlight.”

Louis and Liam give the trees identical wary looks. Behind them, Niall snorts and stomps his foot.

“Alright,” Louis says grudgingly. “But I think we should sleep in shifts tonight.”

“Yes,” Harry agrees, watching the forest grow darker as the sun begins to set. “Yes I think you’re right.

 

~*~*~*~

 

None of them are feeling particularly well rested when they get up the next morning. They make quick work of breaking down camp and double checking their stock of food and water, but none of them are too eager to actually get going. Even Niall, with his usual boundless energy, is dragging his feet a little. There’s little point in putting it off, though, and soon enough the four of them pass between two trees and enter the Dark Woods. Harry finds himself holding his breath as they make their way into the forest, then feeling a bit foolish when nothing happens.

It’s cool and dark in the forest; the trees all around them are tall and overgrown with moss such a dark green that it looks black in the dim light. It’s eerily silent, completely void of birdsong or even the rustle of leaves. Even Niall’s hoof beats are muffled, as though the hush of the forest is a thick blanket tamping down all sound.

“It’s cold,” Louis whispers. Harry feels him shiver against his back.

Harry halts Niall and digs his and Louis’ cloaks from their packs. “Here,” he says, handing Louis a cloak before pulling on his own.  

They continue on in silence, Liam keeping as close to Niall as he can without being underfoot. They’ve travelled deep enough into the woods that they can no longer see where they came in from when Harry feels a slight tug.

He pulls Niall to a stop and looks around.

“What is it?” Louis asks him, voice hushed.

“I don’t know,” Harry says, frowning. He feels the tug again.

He turns to look in the direction it seems to be trying to pull him and sees nothing but more trees.

“I think we need to go this way,” he says, turning Niall and urging him on once more. He feels Louis’ arms tighten slightly around his waist, but Louis doesn’t make any comment as they continue on, following that gentle pull.

They ride for a full day, turning every now and then when the tug switches directions, but as night begins to fall they still haven’t come across anything except more trees.

“We should stop for the night,” Louis says, his teeth starting to chatter. He had pulled out his  _irrlicht_  when the forest had started to grow darker, but now its faint glow is barely enough to light the ground beneath Niall’s feet.

Harry can still feel that gentle but persistent tug urging him on, but he knows it’s growing far too dark and cold to continue and so, with a sigh, he stops Niall so he and Louis can dismount.

“We’ll need to set a fire tonight,” Louis says as Harry hands him their packs. He has his cloak pulled tightly around him, the hand holding his _irrlicht_ shivering slightly.

Harry nods in agreement, tugging his own cloak a little tighter around his shoulders. “I’ll gather the firewood.”

They’re quiet as they prepare for bed, even Niall staying close to the fire once Louis has set the branches Harry gathered for him aflame with a look.

“I’ll take first watch,” Harry says. Louis frowns at him for a moment, then nods and crawls under the blanket, tossing and turning for a bit before finally settling down. Liam goes to curl up next him, but he lays facing Harry. The firelight reflects in his dark eyes as he watches silently with his head resting on his front paws.

For a long time the crackle of the flames and the occasional shuffling of Niall’s feet are the only sounds. The scream startles Harry so badly that he’s already leapt to his feet and unsheathed his sword before he even fully realizes what he’s just heard.

“What the hell?” Louis sits up, staring wildly about. Beside him, Liam stands tense and alert. Harry feels Niall step forward, bringing them shoulder to shoulder.

The scream comes again. Louis stumbles to his feet as Harry strains his ears, trying to figure out which direction the sound is coming from. He’s just started to move forward when Louis grabs his arm.

“Don’t you dare,” Louis hisses.

“Someone needs help,” Harry snaps, tugging his arm from Louis’ grasp.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Louis snaps right back. “Even if it isn’t some sort of trick, you’re not going to be any help to anyone stumbling around in the dark with a sword.”

“So give me your  _irrlicht_ ,” Harry argues.

“Absolutely not,” Louis growls. “I’m not letting you go out there.”

Harry opens his mouth to shout at him when the scream comes again, a long, drawn out wail that cuts off suddenly. The four of them are all huddled together now, Liam at Harry’s back and Niall and Louis on either side. Louis has grabbed hold of his arm once more and Harry can feel the way his hand is trembling - with fear or nerves Harry isn’t sure.

“I think it’s gone,” Louis says after the forest around them remains silent for the space of several heartbeats.

There’s a sudden rustling to their right and Harry feels Louis’ grip on his arm go painfully tight as they all swing around towards the noise.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Louis is chanting under his breath. Liam begins to growl and Niall steps back, nervous and uncertain.

“Louis, give me your  _irrlicht_ ,” Harry orders, voice steady even as his heart races. Louis hands it over and Harry grips the glowing sphere tightly, the glass cool against his sweaty palm.

He takes a step towards where they had heard the rustling, but Louis’ grip holds him back.

“It’s alright, Louis,” Harry whispers. Slowly, reluctantly, Louis’ hand drops away and Harry creeps carefully forward, holding the  _irrlicht_  aloft as he draws closer.

There’s nothing there but bushes and trees. Harry pokes around with his sword, making a full circle around their camp as he carefully searched the underbrush, but there’s nothing to find. After making one more circuit, Harry gives up and heads back to where Louis is watching him with wide eyes, one hand clutching Niall’s mane and the other gripping the fur on Liam’s neck.

“If anything was out there, it’s not anymore,” Harry tells him. He sheaths his sword and hands the  _irrlicht_  back to Louis. “You can probably go back to sleep now.”

Louis lets out an unhappy little laugh, letting go of Niall and Liam and rubbing his hands briskly against his trousers. “No,” he says. “I really don’t think I can.”

 

~*~*~*~

 

They’re all exhausted when they prepare to set off the next morning. Harry is so busy just trying to keep his eyes open as he saddles up Niall that he almost doesn’t notice something is off. When he does, though, he feels himself come fully awake with a jolt.

“The trees have moved!”

“What?!” Louis glances around. “How can you tell?”

Harry points at a giant tree with a pair of roots poking out of the ground, creating twin moss-covered arches. “That wasn’t there yesterday,” he says. He turns and points towards a large, thorny bush. “And that’s the way we came in last night.” He looks all around them; nothing outside the circle of their camp looks familiar. He focuses for a moment on the tug - it’s still there but now it’s pulling him in a completely different direction than it had been when they had stopped for the night.

“Don’t worry,” Harry says quickly, when he turns to see Louis starting to look panicked. “I still know where we’re going. But I think we just found out why no one ever comes back out of the Dark Woods.”

And with that auspicious beginning, it’s probably no surprise that this was the day things started to really go wrong.

Harry pulls out his map before they set off, but, as he suspected, there’s no red dot anywhere on it, so he doesn’t bother looking at it long. He’s left with no other option except pointing Niall in the direction of the tug and hoping he really is being lead towards Zayn, wherever he is.

Harry and Louis ride in silence for a while, Liam following close behind, but then the trees begin to grow closer and closer together, the ground underfoot growing more uneven, until Niall is stumbling almost constantly. Eventually Harry gets off and has a still half-asleep Louis slide forward into the saddle while he carefully leads Niall on foot.

Liam is the one who notices the wolf first, his warning growl stopping Harry and Niall just in time. The thing is practically skeletal, it’s so badly emaciated, and its fur is a mess of badly matted clumps hanging loosely on its body. Its mouth hangs open, white foam dripping out between its sharp teeth and onto the ground. Its eyes, Harry notices with a sharp spike of fear, are bright red.

“Liam, Louis, Niall stay back,” Harry orders. He unsheathes his sword, wishing suddenly that he had thought to bring his bow, and steps quickly between them and the beast.

The wolf snarls when it sees him, sending great wads of foam flying into the air. Harry tightens his grip on his sword and spreads his feet a little, centering himself. With one final snarl, the wolf launches itself at him. Harry swings his sword in a wide arc, forcing the wolf to stay back. It snaps its teeth at him, red eyes flashing as it takes a step back. It paces a little back and forth while Harry holds his ground, following its movements with his eyes warily. It strikes at him again without warning, moving almost too fast for Harry to react in time. Teeth come within an inch of his left arm before Harry brings his sword around and the wolf once more dances out of his reach. Harry tightens his grip on his sword, ignoring the trickle of sweat down his forehead. He knows he needs to end this quickly or else risk the wolf growing too bold and making a dash around him to get at Liam or Louis and Niall. The wolf crouches down and then leaps up into the air, flying towards Harry’s head. Harry brings his sword up to spear it through its soft underbelly when, suddenly, there’s a sound like a thunderclap and the wolf flies backwards.

Harry spins around and sees Louis with his hand outstretched, breathing hard, still sitting astride Niall. When he looks back towards the wolf, it’s lying completely still a good ten feet away, its fur smoking a little.

“Harry!” Louis shouts. Harry hears him dismount and run to where Harry is standing, still staring at the wolf Louis had apparently just killed with some sort of magical lightning. “Harry, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Harry says, turning to him. “Are you?”

“That thing could have killed you!” Louis shouts.

Harry frowns, feeling a bit offended. He’s a seasoned knight. He’s survived skirmishes with ogres, he killed a  _giant_  when he was only twelve - he’s more than a match for one rabid wolf. But before he can say as much, Louis grabs him by the shoulders and pulls him down into a kiss.

It’s over too quickly for Harry to really react. It’s just a firm press of lips against his own and then Louis is stumbling back, looking almost comically shocked. Harry might have laughed at the look on Louis’ face if he wasn’t too busy being completely shocked himself.

“Um,” Harry begins.

“We should get going,” Louis rushes out. “Don’t really fancy hanging around and finding out if that thing had any friends.”

With that he turns and walks back to where Liam and Niall are waiting, watching them curiously. After a moment Harry follows after him, feeling very, very confused.

 

~*~*~*~

 

It isn’t as much of a relief as it probably should be when the trees begin to spread out again, because it means climbing back up into the saddle with Louis. Awkward tension hangs over them like a cloud and Louis keeps putting his arms around Harry’s waist only to let them drop back down again a moment later as though he can’t decide how much he’s willing to let the two of them touch.

Harry isn’t entirely certain how much he wants them to touch either. He remembers being fourteen and his mother catching him kissing a serving girl. How she had sat him down afterwards and told him that he had to be careful - that there were privileges that came with rank but there were also duties. He remembers being fifteen and sixteen and attending court functions with foreign lords and ladies and the way they would look at him. “ _Fairest in the land_ ,” he would hear people say and the royal advisors would whisper excitedly about a politically beneficial marriage.

Harry doesn’t know how he feels about Louis’ kiss. Or, he knows exactly how he feels about it, and that’s exactly the problem. Wanting Louis would be a bad idea under any circumstances, but at the moment it’s also a distraction that he absolutely does not need.  

“This Zayn,” Louis says, startling Harry after such a long stretch of silence. “Why is it so important you find him? What’s so special about him?”

Harry sighs, looking down at his hands and nervously tightening his grip on the reins. Niall tosses his head in discomfort and Harry quickly loosens his hold.

“He’s the Sleeping Prince,” Harry admits.

He feels Louis go very still. “The Sleeping Prince?”

Harry nods, still looking down at his hands.

“Harry, that’s just a story.”

“It’s not,” Harry snaps, suddenly angry. “I know what everyone says, alright. About poor, fatherless Prince Harry and his silly obsession with a children’s story, but it’s not like that. The Sleeping Prince is  _real_  and I’m the only one who can find him.”

“Harry,” Louis says, voice soft. His hands settle against Harry’s waist, fingers tracing gentle patterns against his sides.

Harry closes his eyes, feeling frustrated and so very tired.  _This is not a fool’s errand_ , he reminds himself.  _The Sleeping Prince is real and he needs my help_.

“Look!” Louis gasps. Harry’s eyes pop open and he lets out a gasp as well when he sees the side of an extremely familiar tower appear up ahead.

“We found it,” he breathes.

When they reach the base of the tower, Harry and Louis dismount and for a moment all four of them just stand there staring at the thing they had travelled for nearly a week to find. It was wide, though not particularly tall, and completely covered in dark green vines with long, sharp thorns.

“It’s just like my dream,” Harry whispers, awed. Louis looks at him for a long moment, expression contemplative, before seeming to come to some sort of decision and turning back to the tower.

“What now?” he asks.

“Find the door I guess,” Harry replies with a shrug.

It takes them awhile, but they walk all the way around it. Liam sniffs carefully at the thorny vines and Harry and Louis try to peer through the spaces in between them, but it’s no use. By the time they make it back to where they’d left Niall they’re still no closer to finding a way inside.

“We need to do something about these vines,” Harry says. “Is there a spell or something you could try?”

When Louis doesn’t answer Harry turns to look at him. Louis is biting his lip and staring hard at the ground.

“Louis?”

“I can’t!” Louis bursts out, looking up at him.

“Can’t what?” Harry asks.

‘I can’t cast spells,” Louis tells him, voice tense with guilt.

“But,” Harry says, thoroughly confused. “I’ve seen you do magic?”

“Oh, I can do magic,” Louis bites out. “I can make it rain and set things on fire with just a thought. But what I  _can’t_  do is make even the simplest spells work. Like my fucking  _irrlicht_.” He pulls said object from his pocket and holds it up. “All the novices are supposed to make one at the end of their first year. It’s a fairly simple task - they give us the glass balls and we just have to light the flame inside them using a spell they teach us. I spent days trying to make mine work and when it finally did it was a complete accident! I had just gotten so frustrated that I threw the stupid thing at a wall, not realizing they spell the glass to be unbreakable, and when it bounced back at me suddenly the flame was there, just like that. My teachers have been telling me for years that I’ve got a lot of power but absolutely no control. Only reason they haven’t kicked me out of the Academy for being a dud is that I keep accidentally making things work even without the spells, but a week ago one of my instructors sat me down and told me that’s never going to be enough for me to get certified as a full sorcerer and if I didn’t start improving soon they were going to have to let me go.”

Harry blinks at him. “Alright. I’m guessing that means that, no, you don’t have a spell you can use on the vines.”

“I’m sorry I lied to you,” Louis says. He hunches in on himself, body tense as though awaiting blow.

“You didn’t,” Harry says, reaching out a hand and clasping his shoulder, chest gone tight at the sight of Louis looking so dejected. “I mean, all you ever really told me about any of it was that you were a student at the Academy and that you can set things on fire and whatnot, so unless you lied to me about, like, your name or having four sisters, then you’ve been nothing but honest with me.”

Louis sniffs and leans a little towards him. “You’re not mad?”

Harry shakes his head. “No, of course not.” He smiles reassuringly at him. After long moment, Louis smiles shakily back.

“Well I’m glad we cleared that up, then,” Harry says, patting Louis on the shoulder before turning back to the problem at hand. “You can definitely set things on fire though, right? Because we may need to try that.”

Harry reaches out to touch one of the vines, wanting to check how strong it is, when his hand slips and he cuts himself on a thorn.

“Ow!” He snatches his hand back quickly, leaving behind a few drops of blood. Louis is reaching for his hand with a concerned frown when they both freeze, watching in shock as the vines begin to move, pulling back to reveal a wooden door.

“Well alright then,” Louis says. “Not sure how I feel about a door you’ve got to bleed on to open, to be honest.”

They inspect Harry’s hand, but it’s only a small scratch. After a moment’s consideration, Harry unsaddles Niall and leaves his tack and their packs piled by the door. He pulls out one of his longer hunting knives and hands it to Louis.  

“Just in case,” he says. Louis gives him an unreadable look but takes the dagger without comment. Harry turns to Liam. “Stay out here with Niall and keep him safe,” he tells him. “Louis and I will be back soon.”

Liam doesn’t look too happy about it, but he still goes and sits by Niall. Harry and Louis exchange nervous glances.

“Ready?” Louis asks.

Harry nods. “Let’s do this.”

The inside of the tower is a bit underwhelming. They find themselves in a large, empty room with an open door almost directly across from them, through which they can see stairs. There are a few narrow windows, covered in vines, letting in a little light and bathing everything in a dim green glow.

“So what exactly is it we need to do here?” Louis asks as they start up the spiraling staircase.

“Well,” Harry replies. “We need to find Zayn and then I guess we have to figure out how to wake him up.”

“But isn’t killing the evil sorceress the only way to wake up the prince? That’s what it says in the story.”

Harry shakes his head. “No, that’s the thing. The story we’ve all been telling is wrong. I don’t think the sorceress can be killed until after Zayn’s woken up.”

“You are correct, Prince Harry.”

Louis and Harry look up, startled, and see a woman standing a few steps above them. She has dark skin and hair like an ocean wave crashing into shore. She stares down at them with onyx-colored eyes and Harry realizes that there’s that same sense of agelessness about her as Perrie had had.

“Only Prince Zayn has the power to defeat the false Queen,” the fairy says.

“Are you one of the fairies that rescued him?” Harry asks her.

“My sisters and I have stood guard over him here, waiting for the one who would come to awaken him.”

“Someone noble and pure of heart,” Harry says.

She smiles at him, her cold, impassive face momentarily softening. “Yes, exactly that.” Her smile fades and she gives them both a considering stare. “The prince is at the top of the tower,” she tells them. “If you are able to awaken him, my sisters and I will leave you in peace.”

Before Harry can ask her anything else, she disappears.

“Alright, so I’m starting to suspect that you may be right about the Sleeping Prince not being just a story,” Louis says after a moment of stunned silence. “Also that fairies are, in fact, real.”

Harry scoffs. “Obviously. It was his fairy godmother who sent me to look for him, after all.”

“Oh I’m sorry that I didn’t know that  _rather important_  detail that you completely failed to share with me before this very moment. Is there anything else I should know or am I finally all caught up?”

“No, I think that’s everything.” Harry says a little sheepishly. He starts climbing again. “We need to hurry up before the fairies change their minds about letting us be here.”

They manage to finish their climb fairly quickly, and together they push open the door at the top of the staircase and step into a room that is just as large as the one at the base of the stairs, and nearly as empty. The only thing in it is a massive bed right in the center, upon which they can see a body nestled in amongst the pillows and blankets. Harry and Louis walk up to it and spend a long moment looking at the Sleeping Prince.

“He’s even more handsome than I expected,” Louis says.

Harry silently agrees. He thinks of the painting some lord had gifted him on his tenth birthday of a beautiful young man sleeping peacefully in a bed of bright silken sheets. Harry had spent more time than he’d like to admit looking at that painting over the years. Now he looks down at the actual prince with his high cheekbones, perfect jawline, and long, dark eyelashes that contrast perfectly with his olive-toned skin.  _The artist hadn’t even come close_ , Harry thinks.

“So how do we wake our sleeping beauty up?” Louis asks.

“Maybe we should try shaking him?” Harry suggests.

Shaking him doesn’t work. Neither does shouting or even Louis pinching him. Louis is trying to convince Harry that they need to splash him with some water when Harry is struck with a sudden impulse.

“What are you doing?” Louis asks in an odd voice.

Harry doesn’t answer as he leans down over the prince. Harry cups his cheek gently, just looking at him for a moment, before closing the last of the distance between them and kissing him.

 

~*~*~*~

 

_Those whom fortune favors_

_Find good luck even in their sleep._

~ “Sun, Moon, and Talia”  _(Giambattista Basile)_

 

 

**Zayn**

 

Zayn wakes up with someone’s lips pressing against his own, gentle and chaste. Almost as soon as he becomes aware of the sensation he feels the other person pull away. Zayn blinks open his eyes to find a boy with wide green eyes and a mass of chocolate brown curls staring down at him, soft pink lips open in a little moue of surprise.

“Um, hello,” the boy says, voice surprisingly deep and slow. Zayn blinks at him in sleepy confusion.

“Is this some sort of joke?” Zayn asks hesitantly. His thoughts feel slow, muddled; like he’s wrapped in thick layers of cotton and it’s taking ages for anything to penetrate. The boy is starting to look concerned, biting his bottom lip and still staring at him with eyes that make Zayn think of dew-wet grass in the early morning light. “Did Doniya send you?”

“The fairy?” says a voice to Zayn’s left. Zayn slowly turns his head and sees a blue-eyed boy standing by the other side of his bed, head tilted to the side and an odd expression on his face that Zayn can’t quite interpret. The boy frowns. “I think she left when you woke up. I mean, I’m pretty sure that’s what she meant when she said she’d leave us in peace.” He looks away from Zayn as he says this. Zayn turns his head again, following the boy’s gaze and sees the first boy shrug.

“Dunno,” he replies. He looks back down at Zayn. “Anyways, she’s not the one that sent us. Your godmother did.”

_That_  manages to clear a little of the fog in Zayn’s mind. “Perrie sent you?” It’s only now that Zayn remembers that it’s his birthday today and his mind whirls at the thought that his godmother’s coming of age gift might be  _this_  - being kissed awake to find two pretty boys waiting at his bedside. He would blush at the implications if the whole thing wasn’t so confusing.

“She said I was the only one who could find you,” the boy tells him, voice and expression strangely earnest.

“What?” Zayn tries to sit up, but his arms wobble and give out when he tries to put weight on them. He collapses back against the pillows, shocked. “What is going on? Who are you?”

“Oh!” The boy looks abashed. “Of course, sorry, that was terribly rude of me.” He bows and smiles hesitantly. “I’m Prince Harry of Bayern,” he introduces himself. “And this is Louis Tomlinson,” he adds, gesturing towards the other boy.

Zayn stares up at Harry, trying to remember the names of Bayern’s current princes. There are three, he recalls, and none of them are named Harry. Zayn frowns.

“You’re lying,” he says.

Harry looks startled. His face scrunches up in confusion. “I’m not?” His gaze shifts rapidly back and forth between Zayn and the other boy.

“Harry,” the other boy - no, Louis, Harry had said his name is Louis - says softly.  “He doesn’t know.”

Harry’s face crumples, and when he turns his gaze back to Zayn there’s a look of such sorrow in his eyes that Zayn feels a shock of fear go through him.

“What’s happened?” he demands to know. He forces himself up despite his oddly uncooperative muscles. He’s out of breath as he settles his back against the headboard, but he’s too focused on Harry to really notice. “Where are my sisters?” he asks, panic beginning to stir deep in his chest. They should be here, he realizes. That’s how they started off all their birthdays - with the other three bursting into the birthday boy or girl’s room and waking them up with shouts about treats and presents.

Harry looks like he’s about to cry. “They,” he starts then stops, blinking furiously and pressing his lips together so tightly they go white.

Suddenly there’s a hand covering one of Zayn’s. He turns and watches Louis sit down on the bed beside him.

“Zayn, right?” Louis says. “That’s your name?”

Zayn nods. A voice in the back of his mind whispers that it should be Prince Zayn, that he shouldn’t let a commoner speak to him so casually, but there’s something about the gentle sympathy in Louis’ expression that pushes the thought away before it’s even fully formed.

“Zayn,” Louis tells him. “You’ve been asleep for a very long time.”

“What do you mean?” Zayn whispers.

He feels Harry settle by his right side. “There was a sorceress,” he says, placing a gentle hand on Zayn’s shoulder. His thumb begins to rub back and forth as he explains, “She attacked your castle. You were the only one the fairies were able to save.”

“Your family is dead, Zayn,” Louis says. His grip on Zayn’s hand goes almost painfully tight and Zayn feels himself gripping back just as tightly. Zayn shakes his head in mute denial as Louis continues, “And the fairies have been keeping you here, asleep, to protect you.”

“You’ve been here at least a hundred years, Zayn,” Harry tells him.

Zayn just shakes his head again. “No,” he says, firm. “You’re wrong. That’s not possible. Some sorceress wouldn’t be able to hurt us. We’re too well protected. It’s just not possible.”

“She’s very powerful,” Harry says. Zayn turns to look at him and sees that his eyes have gone shiny and damp. “Too powerful. The fairies couldn’t defeat her. Apparently only you can.”

“You’re crazy,” Zayn tells him. He looks back at Louis. “You’re both crazy.”

Louis sighs. “Zayn look around you. Do you even know where you are right now?”

_Of course_ , Zayn almost retorts, but then he does look around and startles when he realizes that the bare stone all around them could not possibly be the walls of his bedroom.

“I’m sorry,” Harry says, hushed, and that’s the first thing he’s said that Zayn really, truly believes.

 

~*~*~*~

 

_This is a test_ , Zayn decides after Harry and Louis have explained everything all over again, the story failing to sound any less insane in the retelling. He remembers when Doniya had come of age, how the fairies had taken her out into the forest to complete some task that she had refused to tell him or their two younger sisters about when she had returned. All of them would be required to pass a test when they turned eighteen, their mother had explained years ago, but it would be different for each of them. This, it would seem, is Zayn’s, though he has no idea how he’s supposed to pass it.

He needs to get back to the castle, Zayn decides. Which means that first he needs to get out of this tower and figure out where he is.

Harry and Louis have to practically carry him down the stairs; his legs are as weak and uncooperative as the rest of him. It’s an arduous process and they’re all a little short of breath by the time they stumble into the lower room.

“Hey,” Harry says. “There’s stuff in here.”

They settle Zayn against a wall and Harry and Louis go to investigate the small pile of fabric in the center of the room.

“Looks like: a blanket, a cloak, some clothes, oh and some food and water,” Harry says, sorting through it all.

Zayn looks down at his bare legs poking out from where his sleep shirt ends at his thighs. “I’m guessing the clothes are for me,” he says dryly.

The three of them manage to wrangle him into the clothes and a pair of soft, worn-in boots. Then, carrying the rest of the stuff, they manage to stumble outside to where a white horse with a golden mane and tail and a large dog with a thick curly brown coat are waiting for them.

“What the hell?” Louis mutters. Zayn follows his gaze and sees that the outside of the tower is completely covered in vines heavy with lethal looking thorns and bright red roses.

Harry reaches out and carefully brushes his fingers against one of the blooms. “Blood red,” he says and Zayn feels both Harry and Louis shiver.

They settle Zayn down again and this time Louis sits beside him while Harry goes to dig through their packs. The dog comes over and sniffs at Zayn curiously. His tail wags happily when Zayn scratches behind his ear.

“This brute here is Liam,” Louis tells him, smiling and giving the dog a fond pat. “And that handsome fellow over there is Niall.” The horse whickers softly in greeting.

Zayn smiles. “Liam looks a little like my father’s dog,” he says. “She’s big and curly haired, too. Her coat’s a lot darker though.”

“Maybe they’re related,” Harry says, appearing before them with a folded up piece of parchment in his hand. “Supposedly Liam comes from a long line of dogs that originated from a puppy my family received as a gift many years ago.”

Zayn blinks up at him, feeling suddenly off-kilter. He remembers about a year ago when his father’s dog had given birth and he and Waliyha had convinced their parents to send one of the puppies as their birthday present to the crown prince of Bayern. He meets Liam’s warm brown eyes for a moment then roughly pushes the memory aside. This is a test, he reminds himself.

He pulls his cloak tighter around himself, warding off a sudden chill. “What’s that?” he asks, pointing at the parchment Harry is holding.

Harry sits down in front of them and unfolds the parchment to reveal a map. Zayn hears Louis let out a startled hiss as they all bend their heads down to consider it. At the top Zayn sees a small slice of Bayern and all along the left side is the _Rubinberge,_ but the rest of the map is dark stain of black ink. Zayn frowns in confusion.

“It’s enchanted,” Harry explains. “It shifts as you travel so you always know what’s in the surrounding area and it’s supposed to mark where you are with a red dot.”

“There’s no dot,” Zayn says.

Harry nods. “Exactly. I don’t think it works in the Dark Woods. Probably because the forest keeps moving around.”

“The Dark Woods?” Zayn asks.

Harry glances up at him, startled. “Oh, um,” he says, looking almost embarrassed. “That’s what we call this place. I don’t think anyone remembers its real name anymore.”

Zayn runs his fingers over the black mass on the map that apparently represents his home. It looks almost sinister with the  _Rubinberge_  running like the spikes on a dragon’s back along its border.

“Féebéni,” he tells them. “That’s what this place is called. Fairy blessed.”

“Féebéni,” Harry repeats. He traces his own fingers over the map, just a hair’s breadth away from touching Zayn. Zayn stares down at their hands, suddenly caught up in the memory of Harry’s lips on his own.

“That’s a lovely name,” Louis says, shifting beside him and roughly knocking his elbow into Zayn’s side. Zayn pulls his hand back with a hiss of pain. “But that doesn’t really help us with knowing where we are.”

“Well I don’t know _exactly_  where we are,” Zayn says, rubbing at his sore side. He points past the tower with his free hand. “But if we go that way there’s a road and that’s bound to lead us to a town. And from there I can figure out where we need to go to get to the castle.”

Harry and Louis both look at where Zayn is pointing. “I don’t see anything but trees,” Louis says. “How do you know there’s a road over there?”

Zayn shrugs. “It’s hard to explain,” he admits. “I can feel it, sort of? Or not feel it, I suppose would be more accurate.” He sighs when Harry and Louis just blink at him in confusion. “I can feel the magic of the forest. My whole family can - we’re the rulers of this place because we’re in tune with it. I know there’s a road over there because I can feel a...hole I guess is the best way of putting it, in the magic.”

“Why are the roads not magic like the rest of the forest?” Harry asks.

Zayn raises an eyebrow. “What would be the point of roads that could move around?” He shakes his head and sighs again. “It’ll be easier if I just show you when we reach it.”

Harry shrugs. “Alright.” He turns to look in the direction of the road again. “Is it close? Will we be able to reach it before nightfall?”

Zayn frowns, looks up to where the sun is already beginning to sink towards the horizon. “I don’t know.” He glances at Niall. “Maybe if we ride…?”

Louis shakes his head. “We won’t all fit on Niall. One of us would have to walk while the other two ride double, so I wouldn’t plan on us getting anywhere very fast.”

Harry looks at Zayn. “You’ll be able to find the road no matter where it is, right?” Zayn nods. “Alright then we should just figure out a place to camp for the night and we can head towards the road in the morning.”

“Well we could stay in the tower,” Louis says then stops, eyes going wide and then narrowing into annoyed slits. “Or not,” he huffs. Zayn looks at the tower and sees that the vines have shifted to cover the door.

“We could still get in,” Harry says hesitantly, but Louis is already shaking his head.

“Absolutely not. You’re not bleeding on those stupid vines again, Harry.”

“What?” Zayn asks.

“That’s how we got in before,” Harry tells him. “I accidentally cut my hand on one of the thorns and the vines moved so we could find the door.”

Zayn looks at the tower again, sees the way the roses stand out like pricks of blood against the dark mass of vines, and shivers. He can feel it now - the sticky ooze that marks a place protected by  _Blut_  magic.

“Let’s find somewhere else,” he says.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Harry asks if Zayn can find them a stream and, with a little concentration, Zayn manages to point them in the direction of one nearby.

“I can’t tell you where everything in the forest is,” Zayn warns them. “But since most of the water here is run-off from the  _Rubinberge_  I can feel the way the forest’s magic has to slowly sink into it, gradually making the water its own. In the spring even the lakes in the central valleys will feel a bit  _other_  because of all the extra run-off.”

Harry and Liam lead the way and Louis and Zayn follow behind on Niall. Louis had swung up behind Zayn and wrapped his arms tightly around him, clearly expecting to have to help Zayn stay upright in the saddle as they rode, but as they head away from the tower Zayn can feel his strength finally returning. It’s a relief knowing he might not have to spend the rest of their journey relying on Harry and Louis to haul him about like so much extra baggage after all.

It doesn’t take them long to reach the stream and, after a quick survey of the area, Harry starts setting up camp. Louis helps Zayn down from the saddle and they both smile when Zayn manages to remain on his own two feet unassisted. After Zayn proves that he is also perfectly capable of walking unassisted, Harry has him go to the stream to refill their water pouches while he and Louis untack Niall and collect some firewood.

When they’re done they all sit around the pile of firewood and eat the food Harry passes out.

“Are we going to actually set a fire or is the wood just for show?” Zayn asks after a while. The sun has started to set and the forest is growing steadily colder in the fading light. Zayn shivers and pulls his cloak a little tighter around himself. Liam presses against his side and Zayn gives him a bite of his food in thanks for the added warmth.

“Oh, right,” Louis says, quickly swallowing the last of his food. He narrows his eyes at the pile of wood then smiles when it promptly bursts into flames.

“You’re a mage!” Zayn realizes.

“Sorcerer,” Louis corrects absently. “Or, well, sorcerer-in-training.”

“Sorcerer?” Zayn repeats, confused.

Louis gives him an odd look. “Yes,” he says slowly. “You know, someone who can manipulate magic…”

“I know what a sorcerer is,” Zayn cuts him off. He tamps down on his growing annoyance. “I’m just wondering why you’re training to be one,” he says in a carefully mild tone.

Harry and Louis are giving him matching incredulous looks now. “Did you not just see the magic I did?” Louis asks, gesturing towards the fire.

Zayn wonders if he was too hasty in dismissing the possibility that everything that’s happened since he woke up is all a part of some elaborate prank.

“Yes. I saw you perform magic without using a spell. Which is why it’s strange that you’re training to be a sorcerer since they  _only use spells_.”

Louis’ eyes have grown almost worryingly wide. “Are you telling me there’s a type of magic user that  _doesn’t_  use spells?” He asks the question as if the mere idea is ridiculous but there’s something almost like hope lurking in his voice.

Zayn isn’t sure how he hasn’t noticed before now that these boys are idiots. “Louis,” he says helplessly. “I just watched you set that fire without a spell. What exactly are you trying to ask me right now?”

“Wait. Wait,” Harry interrupts before Louis can respond. “What was it you called Louis before? A mage?”

“Yes,” Zayn replies.

Harry tilts his head, considering. “And a mage and a sorcerer are two different things?”

Zayn lets out an exasperated huff, but explains, “A sorcerer is someone who can manipulate magic using spells or rituals as a channel. Mages are magical in and of themselves and thus don’t need a channel other than their own will.” He frowns. “How do you not know this? Are there no mages in Bayern?”

Harry shakes his head. “Not that I know of.”

“How is that possible?” Zayn looks at Louis. “Being a mage is something that’s passed on from parent to child.”

Louis looks down, hunching his shoulders. Harry reaches out and places a comforting hand on his arm, giving Zayn a warning look.

“My mother never talks about my real father,” Louis says softly. Zayn bites his lip, understanding now. “The man she married later adopted me, gave me his last name. He’s the only father I’ve ever known.”

“I’m sorry,” Zayn tells him. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

Louis snorts and smiles at him, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t worry about it. Just explain how this spell-less magic thing works.”

“I don’t know,” Zayn admits. “I’m not a mage  _or_  a sorcerer so all I really know about using magic is what people have told me and what I’ve read in books.” He gestures towards the fire. “How did you set that?”

“Well,” Louis says, nose scrunched up as he thinks. “I just pictured the wood on fire and then I...wanted it? And then the fire started.”

“So try doing that again,” Zayn suggests. “But instead of picturing something on fire try wanting something else to happen.”

“Like what?” Louis asks.

“Your spellbook,” Harry says. “It’s in that bag right there.” He points at one of the packs lying in a pile beside Niall’s saddle. “Try to make it come to you.”

Louis stares at the pack, eyes narrowed in concentration. They all go still with silent anticipation - even Liam seems to hold his breath for a moment, watching the pack for any sign of movement along with the rest of them - but a minute passes and then another and still nothing happens. Zayn can see Louis’ shoulders going tight with frustration.

“This is stupid,” Louis says, still glaring at the pack. “It’s not going to work.”

Harry moves so he’s sitting pressed up against Louis’ side. “Relax,” he whispers. “You can do this.”

Some of the tension drains from Louis’ posture. The bag opens and a leather-bound book comes flying out, sailing directly into Louis’ outstretched hands.

“You did it!” Harry cheers. Liam gives a woof of appreciation and bounds away from Zayn’s side to give Louis’ face a congratulatory lick while Niall nickers and stamps his feet excitedly behind them. Louis laughs and pushes Liam away.

Zayn grins at him. “Good job! You just need a little practice and you’ll be a master mage in no time.”

Louis grins back at him, still pressed tightly against Harry’s side, one arm hugging Liam while the other cradles his spellbook tightly to his chest. For a moment it’s easy for Zayn to forget that he doesn’t know where he is or what he’s supposed to do and simply bask in the warmth of the fire and the company of these strange, lovely boys.

 

~*~*~*~

 

It takes a long time for Zayn to fall asleep that night. He ends up under his own blanket, Liam and Louis lying on either side, while Harry takes first watch. Zayn had tried telling them that it was highly unlikely that anything would attack them, the animals of the forest served his family the same as the people did, but Louis and Harry just gave him matching unreadable looks and eventually Zayn had given up and gone to bed. Zayn lies awake for a long time, just listening to the sounds of Louis and Liam breathing and watching Harry sit quietly by the fire. When he does fall asleep his dreams are dark and troubled and he awakens several times gasping for breath. Each time there’s a pair of hands and a gentle voice - first Louis and then, as the night goes on, Harry waiting by his side to soothe him back to sleep.

Zayn’s feeling grumpy and disoriented the next morning so it’s a relief when the road proves to be incredibly easy to find - the forest having apparently moved them closer to it in the night. Just a few minutes after leaving their campsite they find themselves standing on a narrow road of hard-packed dirt. But Zayn’s relief at finding it is short-lived.

“Are we sure this is going to take us to a town?” Louis looks at where the road dead ends at the base of a tree. Liam walks over and sniffs at it curiously. “Why was this road even made? What’s the point of a road that leads nowhere?”

“No one makes a road in Féebéni that leads nowhere.” Zayn stares at the end of the road with a growing sense of horror. “Someone pulled up the stakes.”

“Stakes?” Harry asks. Niall hooks his head over Harry’s shoulder and Harry absently strokes Niall’s cheek as he turns to give Zayn a curious look.

Zayn crouches down by the side of the road, feeling along its edge. He digs carefully with two fingers until a gleam of metal is revealed. “Cold iron. If you want to keep something in one place - a house, a tract of land, a road - you put stakes of cold iron along its edges. It counteracts the land’s magic.” He reburies it once the others have had a moment to look at it; careful not to touch the stake much as he presses the dirt back over it. He’s never liked the feel of cold iron - the sensation of it akin to trying to grip something just shy of scalding without flinching away.

Zayn stands back up, brushing the dirt from his hands. “Someone pulled up the stakes from a portion of the road and the forest reclaimed it.” His parents would need to be informed of this as soon as possible. Repairing even a small portion of a road that was missing its stakes was going to be incredibly time-consuming. Whoever had done this would need to be caught and dealt with before they could tamper with anything else.

“Perhaps that’s why there’s no roads leading into or out of the Dark Woods,” Harry muses. “Someone just removed the stakes from all the roads past a certain point.”

Zayn gives him a sharp look. As he lay awake the night before, he had been forced to consider the possibility that Louis and Harry (and even Liam and Niall) are not real, that they’re nothing more than magical constructs created by the fairies to guide him during his test. Still, despite the fact that fairy magic is difficult for him to detect - being nigh indistinguishable from the magic of the forest all around them - it’s unlikely that he wouldn’t be able to sense that the boys were nothing but magic, especially since he’s had so much close physical contact with each of them. Most likely they are two real boys whose memories have been tampered with by the fairies and once Zayn passes his test they’ll be returned to normal. But this still means that Zayn has no idea how much stock he can put in anything they say. It seems impossible that someone could have tampered with all the roads leading out of Féebéni, but the possibility that this is not the only road affected is too worrying to entirely dismiss out of hand.

_Mother and father will know what to do_. In all likelihood they were already at work on solving the issue. Still, the sooner Zayn got back home and let them know what he had seen the better

“We should get going,” Zayn announces, already turning and beginning to walk down the road. Louis and Liam fall in beside him, Harry leading Niall by the reins right behind them.

“Let’s just hope there aren’t any more missing pieces of this thing,” Louis mutters.

Zayn feels a shiver of unease go through him at Louis’ words.  _Yes_ , he thinks.  _Let’s hope_.

 

~*~*~*~

 

“Could you cut that out already?” Zayn shouts when a gust of wind threatens to knock him off his feet. He looks over his shoulder to glare at Louis.

Louis just grins at him. He waves his hand, sending another gust of wind at Zayn. “Practice makes perfect, Zayn,” he sing-songs. He’s been annoyingly cheerful all day. Shortly after finding the road, the day had grown warm enough for them to pack away their cloaks and they’d all had a bit more spring in their step ever since.

Louis leans forward in the saddle to pat Niall’s neck. “Don’t know why he’s complaining,” Louis whispers loudly to Niall. “He’s the one who suggested I should practice in the first place.”

Niall whickers back at him in apparent agreement. Zayn gives him a betrayed look.

“Why exactly did we let him ride?” he mutters to Harry. “At least when he was walking all he could concentrate on was complaining about his sore feet.”

Harry snorts. He gives Zayn a sidelong glance, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “He really is getting better, though,” he points out loyally. That was a bit of an understatement - Louis had been making an astonishing amount of progress with his magic over the last couple of hours. If he hadn’t seen it for himself, Zayn would never believe that Louis had been struggling to move a book only the night before.

“Thank you, Harold,” Louis says, smug.

Zayn rolls his eyes. “Alright, alright. But how about you practice doing something else now?”

Louis sighs loudly, sounding greatly put-upon, but he stops trying to blow Zayn over. Instead he starts changing the color of Zayn and Harry’s boots - from brown to red to bright orange - making Harry laugh so hard he stumbles over his own feet. Zayn grabs him by the elbow before he manages to fall on his face. He holds on while Harry regains his balance, then jolts when he feels something pinch his side. Zayn glances back suspiciously at Louis and finds him staring pointedly at the trees along the side of the road. Zayn lets go of Harry’s arm but stubbornly doesn’t move away from him. Their hands brush as they continue walking. Harry ducks his head, smiling softly up at Zayn though a curtain of curls.

Zayn smiles shyly back and tries not to wonder what will become of Harry or Louis when this test is finally over.

 

~*~*~*~

 

They make camp for the night right there on the road. Zayn insists on being the one to gather firewood since he’s the only one in their group not at risk of getting lost. Harry and Louis let him go without much argument.

When Zayn returns, arms loaded down, he can hear Harry and Louis talking quietly. He pauses behind a tree, listening.

“...strange that we haven’t seen any animals?” he hears Louis asking.

“There was that wolf,” Harry replies.

“Yes and it looked like it hadn’t eaten in a month,” Louis grumbles.

“It was rabid, Louis. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It does when it’s the  _only animal we’ve seen_.”

Zayn glances around, aware suddenly of just how quiet the forest is. He realizes that Louis’ right - there really haven’t been any animals around in the last two days. In fact, Harry, Louis, Liam, and Niall have been the only living things Zayn has seen since he woke up in that strange tower.

Feeling thoroughly spooked, Zayn returns his attention to Harry and Louis’ conversation just in time to hear Louis saying gently, “You know it’s been a week since you left.”

Harry sighs. “My mother is probably worried sick. Ben and my sister too, for that matter.”

“Do you think they’ve figured out where you’ve gone?”

“Maybe.” Zayn hears the unspoken  _almost certainly_.

“Will they try sending people in after you?”

There’s a moment of tense silence.

“I hope not,” Harry replies finally. He sounds miserable.

With a prickle of guilt, Zayn decides that he’s eavesdropped long enough. Making perhaps a bit more noise than necessary, he makes his way to where Louis and Harry are sitting huddled together in the middle of the road.

“There you are!” Louis calls out when they see him. “Took you long enough. We were starting to worry that the trees had eaten you. Harry wanted to draw straws to see who would go looking for you, but I told him that, really, it was only logical for us to sacrifice Liam first.”

Liam nips at his sleeve in reproach and Louis laughs and shoves him away playfully.

“Sorry,” Zayn tells them softly, setting down his armload of branches.

“Are you alright?” Harry asks, face full of concern.

Zayn tries to smile reassuringly at him, but judging by the frown he gets in return, he doesn’t succeed.

“I’m just tired,” he says.

Louis yawns, nearly cutting him off. The corners of Harry’s mouth quirk up in amusement.

“I think we all are.” Harry stands up. “Come on. Let’s get the fire going and then we can get some sleep.”

A few minutes later Zayn finds himself tucked in between Louis and Liam while Harry takes first watch once again. And just like the night before the crackle of flames and Louis and Liam’s soft breathing are the only sounds he can hear, their camp a tiny bubble of sound in a world full of eerie silence. Zayn hadn’t been lying about being tired, but it’s still hours before he manages to fall asleep.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Over the years Zayn had rarely dealt with his godmother’s sisters: the fairies that called themselves Jade, Jesy, and Leigh-Anne. Perrie had always been his family’s main point of contact with the fairy court, and most of Zayn’s memories of her sisters are of their silent presence by her side when she held council with Zayn’s mother and father. As they stand silently before him now, he feels as unnerved by their cold, ageless stares as he had as a child.

“Beauty,” says Jade, stepping forward. Her flaming hair crackles as she tilts her head, regarding him with smoke-grey eyes.

“Intelligence,” says Jesy, circling him slowly. With her skin like the smooth bark of a sapling, her hair of budding leaves, and her constant scent of growing things, she had always seemed the most welcoming of the three of them. Her earth brown eyes hold no warmth in them now, though, and Zayn feels a chill go through him when he meets her gaze.

“Power,” says Leigh-Anne, staring at him intently. Being in her presence has always felt like straying too close to a strong current and it’s a struggle for Zayn to draw breath as the twin black pools of her eyes stare him down. He can feel the phantom press of water closing over his head and he’s vividly reminded that he’s never learned how to swim.

“You are thrice blessed, child,” they say in unison. Zayn feels rooted to the spot, unable to move as they draw close. Jade and Jesy take hold of his arms as Leigh-Anne strokes a hand down his chest.

“But are you worthy?” Leigh-Anne asks. “Let us see.”

Zayn gasps when Jade and Jesy tighten their hold on him.

“The proof is in the heart,” Leigh-Anne whispers. Blood drips onto the ground as she digs dagger-sharp nails into his skin, carving open his chest.

Zayn wakes up screaming.

 

~*~*~*~

 

They travel in silence. Zayn rides along on Niall, far too exhausted to walk; Harry, Louis, and Liam trailing along behind him. Zayn’s mood darkens as the day wears on, the lack of sound besides Niall’s hoof beats and Harry and Louis’ shuffling steps grating heavily on his nerves.

_This is wrong. This is wrong. This is wrong_ , repeats over and over in his head. He shuts his eyes and tries to make it stop; wants everything to just. Stop.

He hears a chirp and the flutter of wings. His eyes snap open and he pulls Niall to a sharp halt. Just up ahead he sees a small sparrow land on a low hanging branch next to the road. It spots him and chirps a greeting, tilting its head inquisitively. Then it takes flight once more, heading into a clearing and towards a slightly ramshackle farmhouse with wisps of smoke curling from the top of its chimney.

“Is that,” Louis begins, then gasps when a figure appears. A heavily pregnant young woman with pale blonde hair walks out the farmhouse’s door and pauses when she sees them. “Oh my God,” Louis breathes. “It’s a person.”

The woman waves at them. “Hello!” she calls out.

Harry waves back excitedly. “Hello!”

They only barely hold back from making a mad dash over to her. They can’t quite keep themselves from rushing a bit, though, and bare seconds have passed before they find themselves standing before her.

“Are you alright?” she asks them as Zayn clambers down from Niall’s back.

Harry and Louis exchange loaded looks, having some sort of silent conversation that Zayn can’t even begin to follow. “We’re a bit lost,” Harry tells her after Louis gives him a nod.

“I figured as much,” she replies dryly. “There’s nothing but forest down the road in the direction you came from.” Her forehead wrinkles as she gives them all a considering look. “Why don’t you come inside, rest a moment. My husband and I will see if we can’t get you pointed in the right direction.”

The woman introduces herself as Lou Teasdale and shows them to a barn where they can leave Niall before leading the rest of them into the house.

“Tom,” she calls out as they enter. She leads them into a warm, cheerful little kitchen. “We have visitors!”

A door opens and a young man with light brown hair peers through the doorway. “Visitors?” He walks in and stops, blinking at their appearance. The three of them are more than a little dirty and rumpled from days of travel and nights spent sleeping on the ground. Zayn ducks his head and shuffles his feet self-consciously. “Taking in strays, are we, Lou?” Tom asks, smiling.

“Oh hush.” Lou swats at him. “These boys got a bit lost apparently. Thought I might offer them a place to rest a moment before we sent them on their way.” She narrows her eyes at them. “A nice, hot meal too if they’d like.” Zayn feels his stomach grumble in apparent agreement.

“A bath might not go amiss either,” Tom says, still smiling.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Harry tells them politely. “My name is Harry and this is Louis and, um, Zayn.” Zayn frowns at the lack of his proper title in Harry’s introduction but holds his tongue, simply nodding at Tom in acknowledgement.

Tom gestures for them to have a seat around a large wood table. Lou begins to bustle about the kitchen, setting to work on preparing them all some food.

“What village do you boys hail from?” Tom asks once Harry, Louis, and Zayn have sat down, Liam settled under the table by Harry’s feet.

Harry and Louis have another silent conversation. “Well,” Louis says hesitantly. “We’re actually from Bayern.”

There’s a crash. They all turn to see Lou staring at them wide-eyed, a small, and thankfully empty, pot at her feet.

“Bayern?! But that’s impossible,” she exclaims.

Tom gets up and goes to retrieve the dropped pot. “No one’s managed to make it past the outer edges of the forest in over a hundred years,” he says. “Not since the Dark Queen had the stakes pulled from all the roads leading out.”

“The Dark Queen?” Zayn asks.

Tom stares at him. “You really aren’t from here,” he says, sounding awed.

Zayn shakes his head, but Harry squeezes his thigh warningly when he opens his mouth to correct him. With a sharp glance at Harry, Zayn remains silent.

“It’s not wise to speak too much of her,” Lou says, glancing at the door and windows uncomfortably.

“You never know when she’s listening,” Tom tells them, hushed.

Zayn feels Harry squeeze his thigh again, but when he looks at him Harry’s eyes are locked on Lou and Tom.

Tom wraps an arm around Lou’s shoulders and she smiles at them sympathetically.

“You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need,” she says. “We’ve a spare room in the attic that you boys can use. I don’t know how you are going to be able to get home, but I promise we’ll give you what help we can.”

“Thank you,” Harry tells her. “That’s very kind of you both.”

Tom smiles. “I’ll show you where you can put your things.”

They stand and follow him out of the kitchen and to a staircase tucked into the corner of the adjoining room.

“Wait,” Zayn says as Tom starts to lead them up the stairs. Tom stops and looks back at him. “Do you know how to get to the castle?” Zayn asks, forcing the words out despite the uncertainty churning in his gut.

Tom gives him an odd look, his expression confused and more than a little wary. “No one knows that. There are no roads that lead to that dark place, not since the fall of the last of the noble families. Not that anyone would want to go there. That place holds only death.”

He turns and continues climbing up the stairs. With a sharp look at Zayn, Harry and Louis follow after him. Liam whines and nudges Zayn’s side when he continues to stand, frozen, at the base of the stairs.

_This is a test_. Even in his own head the words sound hollow.

 

~*~*~*~

 

That night Zayn lies in bed, eyes closed as he feigns sleep, and listens to Harry and Louis talk quietly in the dark.

“It’s a relief finally seeing some animals around. I was starting to worry there was nothing but trees in this accursed place,” Louis says.

Harry shifts, curling his arm more firmly around Zayn’s waist. “I asked Tom about that, actually. About the lack of animals in the forest. He said there’s something wrong with the land where there are no roads or towns and animals don’t go there, and the few who do end up sick and...twisted somehow.”

“Well that explains that wolf.”

“He told me it’s because _her_  power holds more sway there. The villagers all believe that dark magic has been slowly infecting that part of the woods and they worry that someday the infection will spread. Tom says it’s harder and harder to grow healthy crops each year.”

There’s a moment of silence. Zayn feels Louis cross his arm over Harry’s, both of them holding him close from either side. “Do you really think Zayn can defeat her?”

Zayn falls asleep before he can hear Harry’s answer.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Zayn is playing hide and seek with his sisters. He can hear their laughter, sees flashes of their hair and colorful dresses, but every time he turns a corner or checks behind a door they’re already gone. He trails down endless hallways opening door after door, trying to catch them.

He comes to the grand staircase that leads down into the entry hall. Everything is dim, cast in shadows, and he slips in a puddle of something he can’t quite see, barely catching himself on the handrail before he tumbles down the hard marble steps. His hands come back sticky and dripping red and as he brings them closer to his face he’s hit with the warm, coppery scent of fresh blood. He gasps, stumbling backwards until he bumps into someone, nearly knocking them both to the floor. He spins around and finds himself face to face with his mother.

She’s in full court garb, her crown nestled in her elaborately styled hair, lips painted bright red. Then she moves closer and Zayn realizes with a jolt that her lips aren’t painted at all but are in fact stained with blood.

She opens her mouth and more blood trickles out, running in thick rivulets down her chin and dripping down onto her dress.

“My darling boy,” she gurgles, smiling at him with red-stained teeth. “Welcome home.”

Zayn stands, unable to pull away, as she presses a cold, grey hand to his cheek. Blood fills his mouth, thick and warm. It pours down his throat and chokes him. He falls to his knees, clawing at his throat as his mother watches him calmly, smiling that ghastly bloodstained smile.

Zayn wakes up gasping for breath, unable to make a sound.

 

~*~*~*~

 

A week passes. Zayn hardly notices.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Zayn and Louis are peeling vegetables outside the house. Not so long ago Zayn would have balked at being asked to do such a menial task but now he finds himself doing the work without complaint. The simple, repetitive motions are almost soothing.

It's been days since he's had any sleep.

The knife slips and the blade bites deeply into the palm of his hand. He watches in fascination as blood begins to drip down his wrist and onto the ground.

"Zayn!"

Louis appears before him, eyes wide with fear. He kneels in front of Zayn, taking the knife from him and grasping his injured hand. He looks from the hand to Zayn's face and some of the fear disappears from his expression, replaced by something Zayn can't quite interpret. Something worse than fear.

"Let's get you inside," Louis says, voice steady even as his hands tremble. "We need to get this stitched up."

He keeps a grip on Zayn's wrist as he leads them into the house, Zayn trailing after him obediently . Zayn’s distantly aware that his hand hurts and that he should probably be concerned about this, but he can’t quite bring himself to care. Not about this. Not about anything.

Harry and Lou are standing in the kitchen making bread. Harry turns as they come in and there’s flour in his hair, the sight of it almost making Zayn smile. Harry’s laughing, his eyes bright until he catches sight of Zayn’s injured hand and his face goes pale with worry.

“Zayn cut his hand,” Louis explains before Harry or Lou can say anything. “We’ll need to clean the wound before we can stitch it up.”

Zayn is pushed into a seat at the table and there’s a rush of activity around him - water that Louis heats with magic used to bathe his hand and wrist before Lou stitches closed the gash with a careful, steady hand. Harry smears on some ointment before wrapping Zayn’s hand with clean strips of cloth.

“There you go,” Harry says as he finishes. Lou has disappeared at some point, possibly to dispose of the bloody water, and it’s just Harry and Louis in the kitchen with him now, sitting on either side of him at the table.

“Are you alright?” Harry asks gently. He’s cradling Zayn’s bandaged hand, watching him with obvious concern.

Zayn blinks at him, realizes he’s been sitting here watching them fix his hand without a sound.  _I’m alright_ , he means to tell Harry, but what comes out instead is, “I felt it. It can’t be a dream if I felt it, right?”

He hears Louis’s sharp intake of breath. Harry looks shaken, eyes wide and scared. He presses his lips together hard and Zayn can see the way he has to force his expression into blankness.

“Zayn,” he says hesitantly. He bites his lip, steeling himself, and then begins again. “Zayn did you cut your hand on purpose?”

Zayn shakes his head. “I don’t,” he starts to say. He stops to take a shuddering breath. “This is real, all of it, isn’t it? I kept trying to tell myself it couldn’t be. That it was a test. Or a dream. But it’s real. It’s real.”

He can feel the numbness he’s cloaked himself in since the moment Harry and Louis woke him up starting to peel away and underneath there’s nothing but a yawning chasm of grief, waiting to drown him.

“My family is dead,” Zayn whispers and begins to sob.

He feels Harry put his arms around him, Louis’ hand stroking his back. Harry’s saying something, a low soothing chant, but Zayn can’t bring himself to focus on the words.

_My family is dead_ , he thinks, tears pouring down his face and soaking into Harry’s curls,  _and I should be too_.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Eventually Harry and Louis put him to bed. Zayn curls up beside Liam and for the first time in a long time he falls into a dreamless sleep.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Zayn wakes up feeling shockingly clear headed, the fog he’s been living in for the past week having seemingly dissipated in the night. All the grief inside of him has hardened, transformed into resolve. He has a goal now. All he needs is a plan.

“We need to talk,” he whispers to Harry over breakfast. Harry gives him a considering look then nods.

“Later,” he whispers back before turning to ask Tom to pass the butter.

After dinner Louis, Liam, Harry, and Zayn sneak out into the barn and gather in Niall’s stall.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Harry asks, watching Louis pace in a circle around them,  _irrlicht_  held aloft.

“Of course it’s going to work,” Louis snaps. “Now hush and let me concentrate, will you.”

He makes one more circle, stopping four times and digging his foot into the dirt and straw, making a mark for North, East, South, and West. After he’s made the fourth mark he walks over and hands his  _irrlicht_  to Zayn. They all shuffle aside so Louis can stand in the very center of the circle. Once he’s in place he closes his eyes and spreads his arms out wide.

Louis takes a deep breath. “Here goes nothing,” Zayn hears him mutter.

There’s a powerful surge of magic, a hum Zayn can feel all the way into his bones, and then nothing. Zayn strains his senses outwards but he can’t feel any magic at all, as though the land’s magic all around him has ceased to exist.

He turns to Louis, shocked. “How did you...?” he starts to ask but Louis motions for him to stay silent.

Louis rotates to the right, flicking his hand towards each of the cardinal points and then again, rotating to the left.

“Alright,” he says, shaky and out-of-breath. “That should take care of it.”

“What did you  _do_?” Zayn asks as Louis sits down between Liam and Harry. Niall noses at Louis’ hair and he reaches up to give the horse an absentminded pat.

“I can’t sense the forest at all now,” Zayn says, awed.

“Good,” Louis replies. “If you can’t sense anything beyond the circle then hopefully that means nothing outside the circle can sense  _us_. Or listen in on our conversation. I’m not sure how long it’ll hold though, so we need to hurry this up.”

Harry looks at Zayn. “I’m guessing you wanted to talk about the Dark Queen.”

“I need you to tell me everything you know,” Zayn tells him. “About her and about what happened to me and my family.”

“I suppose I should just start at the beginning,” Harry says thoughtfully. He tugs at his lower lip, looking contemplative. “There’s an old story,” he begins after a moment, “called The Sleeping Prince. It’s about a royal family that ruled over a magical kingdom and who were close friends with the fairies and possibly a little bit fae themselves. But one day a very powerful sorceress came and killed them all, or tried to. According to the story the fairies managed to take the prince and hide him away before the sorceress could find him.

“Most people don’t really believe it. They just think it’s a scary children’s story - stay away from the Dark Woods or the evil sorceress will eat you, but I’ve always had this feeling that the story was true or at least that  _you_  were real.”

“Wait,” Zayn interrupts. “The Dark Queen eats people?”

Harry’s face scrunches up. “I don’t know. In the story it’s sort of implied that after she,” he hesitates, “...killed your family she killed everyone else who lived in the kingdom and then ate some of them? Or maybe all of them? But obviously there are still people living here and according to Tom and Lou the only people she’s killed were nobles; she’s mostly left the villagers alone. So maybe she doesn’t eat people and that’s just something that got added to the story to make it scarier.”

“If she’s really the same sorceress that killed Zayn’s family over a hundred years ago, there’s a chance she’s eaten a few people,” Louis says. He glances at Zayn and quickly looks away again. “Or at least parts of them,” he finishes quietly.

Zayn clutches Louis’  _irrlicht_  closer to his chest, his injured hand twinging in protest as he tightens his grip on the slick glass. “Slit the throat and drink the life blood,” he recites, remembering a spell he read about in one of his father’s old books that promised to prolong life or allow you to steal a person’s power for your own. “Then eat the heart and the liver.” He shivers.

There’s strained silence for a moment, all of them avoiding each other’s gaze.

“Anyways,” Harry says after a long moment. “The story always said that the only way to wake you up was defeating the sorceress so that’s what I thought I was going to have to do. But then I met this bard that had heard a different version of the story in a little village in Thorthúil and he told me it was actually the other way around - the only way to defeat the sorceress was to wake you up.”

“So how did you find me?”

Harry shifted, his shoulder bumping against Louis’. “I had this dream, the same one over and over again since I was little. I’m wandering through a forest, looking for something, and find a tower covered in thorns.” He looks at Zayn. “Your tower.” He looks down, his hands idly playing with the hem of his shirt. “I always knew the dream was connected to you somehow, but it wasn’t until your godmother came to see me that I realized what it actually was.”

“That’s right,” Zayn says. “I remember that you said Perrie sent you.”

Harry nods “She just showed up in my room one night. Told me that I was the only one who could find you.”

Zayn frowns. “She didn’t know where I was?”

Harry shrugs. “I don’t think so? Or maybe she just couldn’t tell me. But that was when I realized the dream was showing me where you were.”

“And then when we got to the tower there was another fairy there,” Louis says. He gestures towards his head. “She was dark skinned and her hair was sort of...ocean-y?”

“Sounds like Leigh-Anne,” Zayn tells him. “That’s not her real name of course; no fairy ever uses their real name. She’s one of Perrie’s sisters though. Which means Perrie’s probably the one who rescued me from the sorceress.”

“Well Leigh-Anne said that you were the only one that could defeat the Dark Queen so she and her sisters had been waiting for someone to come wake you up. Someone “noble and…” something.” Louis’ eyebrows draw together as he tries to remember.

“Someone noble and pure of heart,” Harry finishes. Louis snaps his fingers and nods.

“They must have charmed the vines so only someone with royal blood could get past,” Zayn says thoughtfully.

“Why would they do that?” Harry asks, confused.

Zayn shrugs. “Maybe because there aren’t any nobles left in Féebéni, so even if the sorceress found the tower she wouldn’t have been able to get in. You could only get to the door after you cut your hand on one of the thorns right?” Harry nods. “So there you go. Your royal blood granted you entry. And the “pure of heart” bit probably just meant that only someone with pure intentions could wake me up.” He smiles at Harry. “I guess this means you really are a prince, then.”

Harry snorts. “Yes. I really am a prince.”

Zayn turns to Louis. “And how did you get involved in all this?” he asks, curious.

“Well,” Louis drawls. “That was a bit of an accident really. You see, Harry decided to sneak out in the middle of the night...”

“And Louis was in Niall’s stall…”

“And the idiot literally tripped over me…”

Harry shoves at Louis, who laughs and shoves him back. “You weren’t supposed to be there! And it was dark!”

“Anyways, when I realized who he was and what he was doing I insisted on going along with him to help.”

“He threatened to tell everyone he saw me sneaking off if I didn’t take him with me,” Harry says with a pout.

Louis pokes him in the side. “Don’t act like you regret it.”

Harry giggles and sticks his tongue out at him.

“Wait,” Zayn says. “Are you telling me you’ve only known each other for, what, a couple of weeks?”

Harry blinks at him. “Yes?”

Zayn laughs and then laughs even harder when Harry and Louis give him identical confused looks. By the time he manages to get himself back under control he’s leaning against Liam’s side, struggling for breath. Louis rolls his eyes at him.

“Alright,” he says once Zayn’s gone quiet. “That’s everything we know, I think. That and what Tom and Lou have told us.”

Harry holds up his hand, ticking off each point on his fingers. “Killed off the rest of the nobility after she murdered the royal family. Possibly outright controls the outer forest, but at the very least is corrupting it with her dark magic. Pulled up all the stakes on the outer roads so no one can come in or out of Féebéni. Also got rid of the roads leading to the castle as far as anyone knows. Mostly leaves the people here alone but still spies on them.”

“And she’s very powerful,” Louis finishes. “More powerful than even your fairy friends.”

Zayn sighs. “I don’t understand how I’m supposed to defeat her. I can’t use magic. I barely know how to use a sword. How am I supposed to fight her?”

“I don’t know,” Harry admits softly.

Louis puts a hand on Zayn’s shoulder and squeezes. “We’ve managed to come this far. We’ll figure it out.”

 

~*~*~*~

 

Zayn collapses in the grass, tossing aside his stick. “I surrender.”

Harry sits down cross-legged beside him, putting down his own stick and pushing his sweaty hair back out of his face. “You’re getting better,” he says gently.

Zayn scoffs. “You don’t have to lie to me, Harry.”

Harry pouts at him. It had been Harry's idea to work on Zayn's sword fighting skills and whenever they have a break from helping Tom and Lou around the farm he drags a reluctant Zayn out behind the barn to do just that, using two branches Harry had stripped of leaves and bark as practice swords. They've been at it for weeks now and Zayn has only barely begun to show any signs of improvement.

"Even people with a natural aptitude for sword fighting have to work at it before they're any good," Harry says patiently. He's been nothing but patient every time they've practiced together - calmly correcting Zayn's stance and showing him different movements again and again while Zayn tries and fails to copy him. "You just need to keep practicing. I promise that you can get this."

Zayn sighs, staring up into the cloudless blue sky. "I believe you, Harry. That's not the problem."

Harry presses the tip of his boot against the back of Zayn's out flung hand. "What  _is_  the problem?" he asks softly.

Zayn looks at him and Harry just gazes silently back, waiting.

“It’ll be months before I’m even half as good as you are. And even if we can manage to keep hiding out here that long, there’s just no point.”

Harry frowns. “Just because she’s a sorceress doesn’t mean a sword won’t hurt her.”

Zayn sits up, puts a hand on Harry’s shoulder and squeezes. “No, of course. That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what  _are_  you saying?” Harrys asks. He reaches up and places a hand over Zayn’s. Zayn turns his hand over, let’s their fingers interlace.

“Don’t you get it? If all it was going to take to kill her was a blade through the heart then you could do it. But Leigh-Anne said only I can defeat her. So it doesn’t matter how much I practice because fighting her with a sword isn’t going to be the answer.”

Harry nods. He tugs Zayn’s hand down into his lap and cradles it gently in both of his own. Zayn realizes it’s his left hand, the one he injured nearly three weeks ago. He watches as Harry carefully traces over the tender pink scar.

“You should still practice, though,” Harry says, still looking down at Zayn’s hand. “It can’t hurt, right?”

“No, it can’t hurt,” Zayn mumbles back, distracted. Harry’s touch is sending warm tingles up his arm. He’s almost overwhelmed with the urge to kiss him. He thinks Harry would probably let him.

_Louis might kill me if I did, though_ , he thinks and strangely, the thought makes him smile.

“Zayn,” Harry starts, glancing up at him almost shyly, “the dreams you’ve been having.” Zayn tenses, his smile dropping, and Harry squeezes his hand in an attempt to either soothe or apologize. “Do you want to talk about them?”

Zayn wants to say no. Wants to get up and walk away, put as much distance between himself and this conversation as he can.

But before he can bring himself to do exactly that, Harry continues, “I used to have a lot of nightmares when I was younger. After my father died.”

Harry looks up then, meeting Zayn’s eyes with his own. Zayn stares back at him, frozen.

“I was six. He was on what was supposed to be a routine patrol, except they came across a band of ogres. I guess one of them managed to catch him by surprise.”

Harry stops, licking his lips nervously. He lets out a breath, looking away. “His knights brought him home. They were keeping him in this room in one of the outer wings of the castle where no one goes. I shouldn’t have known that; they tried to keep it a secret from my sister and me. But I overheard a couple of maids talking and when I realized where he was I had to go see him. I had to know what had happened. I’d never had anyone close to me die before and the idea of him just being  _gone_  didn’t seem quite real to me. I thought, maybe, if I just saw his body for myself then I could understand why everyone was saying that he was never coming back. I managed to find the room and sneak in without anyone catching me. But what I didn’t know was that he wasn’t actually dead.”

Zayn’s breath catches. He sees Harry shudder and then take a steadying breath, still staring blankly off into the distance.

“I’m not sure you could say he was actually alive, though. He was lying in the bed and parts of him were...missing. He was making these little noises that might have been words and I went up to the bed so I could hear him better. I touched his hand and for a moment I swear he was actually looking right at me. But then I heard someone coming and I ran. He died that night.”

“I’m sorry,” Zayn tells him, hushed. Harry turns his head and gives him a shaky smile.

“I guess it’s not really surprising I had nightmares after that. But the thing was, they weren’t really scary. They were just sad. Because in my dreams my father would be looking at me, pleading with me to help him. And I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything for him.”

He looks down again. Zayn realizes at some point he had grabbed tightly onto one of Harry’s hands and he carefully unclenches his fingers, loosening his hold.

“Maybe it’s stupid or even selfish, but I think one of the reasons I was always so determined to save you was because I needed someone to save. There was nothing I could do to help my father but maybe I could help you.”

Zayn shakes his head. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I guess I’m just trying to say - I mean, I’m not saying you shouldn’t be sad or shouldn’t miss them, but you can’t torture yourself for the sake of the dead. There’s nothing we can do for them now. It’s the living we have to be concerned about.”

Zayn sits there in silence, staring at his and Harry’s clasped hands, wondering how to tell Harry that he picked the wrong person to try to save. Because he’s realized something Harry apparently hasn’t - the fairies said he could defeat the Dark Queen, but they never said that doing so wouldn’t be at the cost of his own life.

 

~*~*~*~

 

He’s helping Waliyha and Safaa pick apples. He can hear his father talking somewhere in the distance, and the sound of Doniya and his mother’s laughter. Safaa holds out an apple for his inspection and Zayn smiles at her. The apple is perfectly ripe, it’s gleaming red surface free of spots or blemishes. At Zayn’s nod, she adds it to the basket at their feet.

“What about this one?” Waliyha asks him. The apple she’s holding out for him is nearly perfectly formed and such a bright red it almost doesn’t seem real.

“Try it,” she says, handing it to him. Zayn takes it and Waliyha smiles at him encouragingly until he lifts it to his mouth and takes a bite.

It’s soft, meaty, and as he sinks his teeth in the taste of blood floods his mouth. He jerks it away and sees that it’s not an apple at all, but a heart. As he watches, it pulses in his hand, still beating.

“You have to eat it all,” Waliyha tells him. His gaze snaps to her and he gasps when he sees blood seeping through the white fabric of her dress directly over her chest. She stares at him, eyes blank. “You have to eat it all,” she repeats, grabbing his hand and lifting the heart back towards his mouth.

Zayn’s eyes snap open. On either side of him are Harry and Louis, still soundly asleep. He can hear Liam’s soft, wuffling breaths from where he’s lying next to the door. Zayn sits up carefully, but somehow he knows that it doesn’t really matter - he won’t wake any of the others up. He feels like he has a string tied around his heart pulling him towards something. No, not something. Someone.

_Come find me, little lost prince_ , a voice whispers in his mind.

He crawls over Harry and out of the bed. He dresses quickly in the moonlight and then tiptoes back over to reach under Harry’s pillow and pulls out the dagger he keeps hidden there. Zayn tucks it into his belt and then takes a moment to just look at the two boys lying in the bed. Louis’ turned over onto his side so that he’s facing towards the center and the fingers of his outstretched hand are just barely grazing Harry’s back.

“Take care of each other,” Zayn whispers. He creeps silently to the door, steps carefully over Liam, and leaves without a backwards glance.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Zayn isn’t sure how long he walks. It’s dark, only the barest hint of moonlight managing to filter through the canopy of leaves over his head and light his path through the trees. The only sounds are his footsteps and steady breathing. Occasionally he thinks he hears the flutter of wings, but when he turns to look there’s nothing but trees all around him.

He hears something crashing through the underbrush behind him and he freezes, his hand moving to grip the handle of Harry’s dagger.

“Zayn!”

Zayn spins around and watches in shock as Harry, Louis, and Liam come running up through the trees. Harry has his sword hanging from his side and Louis is holding his  _irrlicht_  aloft to light their way. He stuffs it into his pocket as he stomps towards Zayn.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Louis shouts, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him. He’s glaring at Zayn, his mouth a hard, angry line, but Zayn can do nothing but stare back at him in shock.

“How did you find me?” he stutters out.

“I woke up in a panic, absolutely certain you were in danger,” Harry tells him. “You were gone so I woke Louis up and we had Liam track you here.”

Louis gives him another angry shake, as though in emphasis.

Harry tugs Louis away from him. “Zayn,” he says, face soft and concerned. “We need to go back to the house. It’s not safe out here in the woods.”

That manages to knock Zayn out of his stupor. “I’m not going back,” he tells them.

Louis’ eyes narrow. “What do you mean  _you’re not going back_? Where the hell are you going? You can’t just take off in the middle of the night like this!”

Zayn straightens his back and calls on his lifetime of court training in an attempt to project absolute confidence in his chosen path. “I’m going to fight the Dark Queen.”

Harry’s eyes go wide, but Louis just scoffs. “So, what?” he says, throwing his arms wide to indicate the forest all around them. “You’re just going to wander around the woods until she finds you? I’m sure she’ll be polite enough to come out and introduce herself so you can formally challenge her to a duel instead of just sending out a pack of rabid wolves to eat you alive or whatever it is she usually does to deal with pesky interlopers.”

Zayn glares back at him. “No of course not. I’m not stupid, Louis. I know where to find her and I’m going there to kill her.”

“How?” Harry asks. He’s frowning, forehead creased, as he looks at Zayn consideringly. “How do you know how to find her?”

Without meaning to, Zayn reaches up with his left hand and rubs at his chest. “I...I can feel it,” he tries to explain.

“It’s like something’s pulling you towards where she is,” Harry says, not quite a question.

Zayn blinks at him, surprised. “Yes.”

Harry looks worried. “Zayn, that’s how I found you. Something pulled me to the tower.”

“What?” Louis is looking back and forth between them with a frown. Liam is giving Zayn a sad, worried look from his side.

“Something’s not right here, Zayn,” Harry says.

“It doesn’t matter!” Zayn nearly shouts, voice tight with frustration. “It doesn’t matter how I find her. The fairies said I can defeat her and that’s what I’m going to do.”

“Just because you  _can_  defeat her doesn’t mean you will,” Louis snaps. “Especially if you rush in with absolutely no plan like an idiot.”

“You’re the one who’s been saying that there must be some kind of trick to this, some reason it’s only  _you_  that can defeat her,” Harry pleads. “You’re right, of course you’re right, and we just need a little more time to figure this out.”

“We’ve already wasted too much time, Harry,” Zayn tells him. “I have to do this now, alright, I can feel it. This ends tonight.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” Louis says.

I know, Zayn thinks. He sighs and starts to turn back around. “You guys need to go back. You’ll get lost if you stay out here much longer.”

“Like hell we’re letting you face her alone.” Louis slaps a hand down on his shoulder and digs his fingers in hard. “We’re coming with you.”

“What? No!” Zayn tries to pull away but Louis just tightens his grip. Harry crosses his arms and nods, expression grim. Even Liam looks stubbornly determined.

“If you’re doing this,” Harry says, “then we’re all doing this.”

Zayn sighs and slumps a little in defeat. “Fine.”

For a long moment Louis just stares at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Finally he nods and lets his hand drop. “Alright then. Lead the way.”

 

~*~*~*~

 

They’ve been walking for less than an hour when they break through the trees and find themselves standing before the castle gates. Zayn stares at the patina of rust almost completely covering the wrought iron and for the first time he really believes that a hundred years passed by while he slept in that tower. The two halves of the gate hang partially open and it’s easy enough for the four of them to slip one by one through the gap.

It’s eerily silent in the courtyard. Dead leaves and debris are littered across the flagstones, and their steps make muffled crunching noises as they walk towards the castle doors. The moon hangs full and bright overhead, but if anything the brightness just makes them more nervous. It’s so very obvious that there’s no one around, and there hasn’t been for a long time.

They make their way up the stone steps and stop in front of the massive gilded doors that mark the entrance of Zayn’s home. Liam sniffs at them curiously while Harry, Louis, and Zayn stand back and consider them.

“They look heavy,” Louis comments. He glances at Zayn. “Think they’re locked?”

Zayn shrugs.

“Only one way to find out,” Harry says. He strides forward and takes hold of one of the door’s great handles. With a grunt of effort he tugs backwards. There’s a loud grinding noise, but after a moment the door swings open wide enough for them to pass through.

Zayn’s staring into darkness past the open door when he realizes that the tug in his chest has disappeared. It would seem from this point on they were on their own.

He startles when he feels a hand grasp his own.

“Come on then,” Louis says, giving Zayn’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Let’s do this.”

They all pass through the open door and into the entrance hall, Louis’  _irrlicht_  lighting their way. Zayn leads them up the grand staircase and down the main hall, heading towards the throne room. She’ll be waiting for them there, he’s certain of it.

The doors to the throne room are standing wide open and as they pass through the sconces all around the room flare to life. Louis slips his sphere back into his pocket as they all look around, tense and nervous. Harry draws his sword and, after a moment of hesitation, Zayn draws his dagger.

“Hello, godson.”

The dagger slips through suddenly numb fingers, and there’s a loud clatter as it falls to the ground. In front of his mother’s throne a woman has appeared, dressed in inky black and a crown of dark spikes on her head. She smiles at him and it’s like a punch to the stomach as his gaze locks with all-too-familiar blue eyes.

“I have been waiting for you for a long time,” Perrie tells him.

“You!” Harry shouts, stepping forward and subtly placing himself between Perrie and Zayn.

Perrie’s focus swings to him and her smile widens, a flash of sharp white teeth against blood-red lips. “Thank you, Prince Harry, for finding and returning my godson to me. I had begun to give up hope that anyone would be able to make it past my sisters, but at long last one of my champions has succeeded.”

Zayn feels Louis grab him by the arm, thinks he hears Liam growl, but all his focus is still on the woman standing before him. The same woman who had spent long afternoons showing his sisters new ways to braid their hair. The same woman who had smiled and complimented his skill when he had shyly shown her his sketches. He had shared his hopes with her. His secrets. She had been the one person he had always trusted implicitly.

Perrie was the Dark Queen.

She had murdered his entire family.

“Why?” Zayn chokes out. Perrie turns her gaze back to him, tilts her head curiously. “Why would you do this?”

“The very first time I saw you,” she says and there’s something like wonder in her voice, “I knew what I would do. There was so much power in you, I could almost taste it. It awoke a hunger in me, such that I had never felt before. And I knew the day would come when I would take that power for my own.”

“You’re not taking anything,” Louis tells her, voice hard. Harry shifts his stance, muscles tightening in preparation to strike.

Perrie sighs and with a flick of her hand Harry and Louis fly backwards, both of them crying out as they slam into the wall. Zayn’s feet feel as though they’ve gone rooted to the spot. Perrie glides towards him and there’s a glint of metal in her hand. His stomach churns when he realizes it’s a knife. He’s struck with the faint scent of burning flesh as she comes to a stop in front of him and as he looks down at her hand he realizes why. The knife is made entirely of cold iron. He can see the vivid red welts on her hand where the metal has come in contact with the skin. She seems impervious to the pain, though, her grip never faltering.

“Hush now darling,” she soothes. Zayn only realizes there are tears trailing down his cheeks when she reaches up with her free hand and tenderly brushes them away. “Your godmother is here to take your pain away.”

Her hand slides down until it’s gently gripping the back of his neck. She leans up and kisses his forehead before pulling back and raising the knife. Zayn’s eyes start to slip closed.

Perrie screams. Liam’s jaw is clamped tight around her forearm and even as she tries to shake him off his teeth sink in deeper, dark green blood dripping down her arm and burning up with a hiss as it touches the knife. Perrie screams again, angry now instead of pained. She lets go of Zayn’s neck and grabs Liam by the ruff, pulling him off of her. She flings him away and he hits the wall with a  _crack_  and a loud yelp before falling to the floor. He doesn’t stir again.

Zayn blinks. The moment Perrie let go of him it was as if a door opened somewhere deep inside of him and he can feel power rushing through it now, filling him up. His constant vague awareness of the land all around him broadens and sharpens and suddenly he can feel every tree, every blade of grass. He can feel the rush of a river and he can feel the herd of deer that have paused by its banks to take a drink. He feels the life leave a rabbit as a wolf closes its jaw around its neck and he feels the soil beneath them soak up the dripping blood. He takes a breath and it’s as though the land itself is breathing with him.

Zayn shifts his feet, feeling the castle itself, and the ancient magic that’s seeped into the very foundations. He can feel the group of villagers riding through the gates and into the courtyard. And there, at the edge of his perception, he can sense the gateway between this land and the land of the fae. In his mind’s eye he sees the barrier Perrie has placed between the two worlds, erected with magic and sealed by his family’s blood. It’s little more than a thought to send it crashing down, severing Perrie’s hold on this land’s power.

“No!” Perrie shrieks. She raises the knife again but Zayn’s hand shoots out and grabs hold of her wrist before she can strike. Perrie’s grip loosens for only a moment, but it’s enough - Zayn quickly wrests the knife away from her. The feel of the cold iron against his skin makes him shudder, but he doesn’t hesitate as he turns the blade and stabs her in the chest with a quick thrust Harry had spent hours perfecting with him, slipping it between her ribs and sinking it deep into her heart.

Perrie gurgles as Zayn lets go of the knife. He sees the light fade from her eyes as she sinks to the floor, dead.

Zayn stands there staring at her and fighting the urge to vomit. He can still feel every single thing within Féebéni, and it’s beginning to overwhelm him.

“Zayn! Zayn!”

Someone’s shouting at him. It takes him a long moment to recognize the voice as Louis’. He turns and Louis worried face slowly swims into focus.

“Zayn, are you alright?”

Zayn frowns. “I’m not sure,” he replies slowly. His voice sounds as if it’s coming from far away.

“Louis, Zayn, come quick!”

They both turn and see Harry crouched down beside Liam’s prone body, hand hovering over his fur but carefully not touching him.

“He’s hurt,” Harry says. Louis crouches down beside him while Zayn just stands behind him watching with a sort of detached feeling of horror. Liam’s side rises and falls in shaky pants and Zayn can feel the life within him slowly fading away. “I think his back is broken.” He looks at Louis, eyes bright with unshed tears. “Do you think you can heal him?” he asks Louis.

Louis bites his lip and shakes his head. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried anything like this before.”

The scent of wood smoke and burning leaves drifts towards them. Harry looks over his shoulder and gasps, shooting to his feet and reaching for his sword. Zayn doesn’t bother to turn around.

“Fix him,” he commands.

Jade steps forward. Louis sees her and stumbles to his feet, eyes wide. He watches her warily as he moves aside so she can crouch down in his place.

“Easy now, little one,” she says and places a gentle hand on Liam’s side.

Liam gives a full-body shudder. Jade pulls her hand back and he surges to his feet. Harry falls to his knees with a cry of relief, wrapping his arms around Liam’s neck. Jade rises gracefully to her feet, fiery hair crackling. She turns and considers Zayn.

“So you have finally come into your power,” she says. Zayn glares at her.

“You knew. You all must have known what Perrie was planning to do,” he accuses. Jade tilts her head but says nothing. “Why didn’t you stop her?”

“What would you have had us do, your majesty?” Jesy asks. Zayn turns and sees her and Leigh-Anne standing beside Perrie’s body. “There was no turning our sister aside from her chosen path. The only way to stop her was through death. Would you have had us become kinslayers?”

“So instead you stood by while my kin were slain,” Zayn says, voice hard.  “You didn’t even try to warn us.”

Leigh-Anne considers him coolly. “What has come to pass is regrettable, but that does not mean it was not necessary.”

“We gave you what assistance we could,” Jade tells him. “We kept you hidden away and even after you awoke we made certain that you were well protected.”

There’s the sound of voices in the hall outside the throne room and suddenly Zayn remembers the villagers he sensed earlier. He turns and sees Tom and a group of men and women he doesn’t recognize burst through the open door, brandishing various weapons.

“Harry, Louis, Zayn!” Tom shouts. “Are you alright?”

The group of villagers stops dead at the sight of the three fairies. A man with curly blond hair spots Perrie’s body and points at it with a shout of surprise. Shocked murmurs spread through the group.

Jade moves to stand beside Zayn. “The Queen is dead,” she says, and the villagers all fall silent, watching her. “Long live the King!”

She joins her sisters and as one they bow to Zayn before straightening up and disappearing, taking Perrie’s body with them.

The villagers are all staring at him now, slowly lowering their weapons.

“You were right,” says a dark skinned woman standing next to Tom. “He really is the lost prince.”

Louis and Harry move to stand on either side of Zayn. Liam is leaning against Harry’s side, Harry’s hand resting protectively on his back.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asks Tom. “How’d you find us?”

“Niall started making a racket right after you left,” Tom explains, “As soon as we let him out of the barn he led us right to you.”

Zayn sways on his feet and only Louis quickly wrapping an arm around him keeps him from falling to his knees.

“We need to get him out of here,” Louis says, tightening his grip on Zayn. Harry wraps an arm around him from the other side, helping to support his weight.

“Are you sure we can get back to the village?” a man asks.

“It’s fine,” Zayn mumbles. “The forest hasn’t moved.” Everything within Féebéni had locked down the moment Zayn’s power first surged through him, and he can feel it still awaiting his command to move again.

Harry and Louis practically drag him out into the courtyard where the horses are waiting. Zayn is vaguely aware of being lifted up onto Niall's bare back and Harry's strong arms circling him from behind. He absently strokes his fingers through the fine gold strands of Niall's mane, stopping when he notices the dark, sticky smears his fingers are leaving behind. The world tilts crazily for a moment, and then Zayn is aware of nothing at all.

 

~*~*~*~

 

_...and they lived long and happily until they died._

~ “Little Brier-Rose”  _(Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm)_

 

 

**Louis**

 

As they were setting up camp the second night after sneaking away from the castle, Louis had turned to Harry and asked, “What was it like fighting a dragon?”

Harry had looked confused.

“You know,” Louis had continued, waving his hand in a vague ‘you remember the story’ sort of gesture. “The one that was attacking that town and killing people? Didn’t you track it down and fight it off?”

“Nooo,” Harry had replied slowly, even slower than usual. Louis resisted the urge to hurry him along. “You mean the dragon I met when I was seven? It didn’t kill anyone. Well except some sheep. And a couple cows. And I didn’t track it down, I found it by accident.”

Louis frowned.

“It was very polite,” Harry had gone on to tell him, eyes shining with sincerity. “I told it I had gotten lost and we told each other stories before it sent me on my way.”

It was safe to say that Prince Harry was not like Louis had expected.

None of this had been like he’d expected, he thinks as he sits in Tom and Lou’s kitchen drinking tea while people mill about all around him. Probably for the best, though. After all, if everything had simply gone as expected he would have been dying of boredom within the first week.

The people all around him are talking excitedly among themselves and Louis knows he should probably pay a bit more attention to what they’re saying since it seems to mostly be about Zayn and what just happened with the Dark Queen, but honestly he just doesn’t have the energy. He’s been up half the night at this point, chasing after idiot princes and getting nearly murdered by evil fairies. About all he can manage to concentrate on at the moment is keeping his eyes open, and even that’s quickly becoming too much of a struggle. He should have just crawled into bed with Zayn the moment they got back. Let Harry deal with this whole talking things over business.

The room goes briefly quiet when Harry appears. He looks nearly as exhausted as Louis feels, his eyes red-rimmed and his curls gone a bit limp. He gives Louis a tired little smile.

“How’s Zayn?” Lou asks, settling carefully down in the seat beside Louis, a cup of tea clutched in her right hand while her left rests protectively over her swollen belly.

“Zayn’s alright. Just needs some sleep,” Harry tells her. He’s leaning against the wall, looking half-dead on his feet.

“Speaking with him will have to wait then,” Tom says, looking around the room. The gathered villagers all nod in agreement. He looks back at Harry. “But we have some questions for you and Louis now, if that’s alright.”

Harry looks at Louis, eyebrows raised in question, and Louis shrugs.

“Sure, why not,” Louis says. He puts down his tea and tries to straighten a little in his seat while fighting back a yawn.

A woman standing next to Tom gives him a considering look. She had introduced herself as Caroline Watson on the ride back from the castle and if anyone’s in charge of this group, Louis’ pretty sure it’s her.

“At this point I don’t think any of us have any doubts about who Zayn is,” she says. “But we would like to know a little more about who  _you_  are. You’re both from Bayern, is that right?”

Louis nods. “We are. I’m Louis Tomlinson. I was a third year sorcery student before I got involved in all this.” Not sure what I am now, he thinks.

Harry clears his throat. “I’m Harry. I’m, um, well a prince actually.”

A murmur goes through the room at that. “So Prince Zayn was hidden in Bayern?” another woman pipes up from somewhere in the back.

‘Oh, no,” Harry replies. “He was here. But we’re pretty sure the fairies had a spell on the tower he was in that only someone of noble blood could get past.”

“And since there are no more nobles in Féebéni anymore, it had to be someone from somewhere else,” Louis says.

Caroline has a look on her face like she wants to ask them about a million more questions about all this. Louis tries to convey with his expression alone just how very not up to explaining things he and Harry are at the moment. Caroline seems to understand, giving him a rueful little smile but staying quiet.

“It doesn’t seem fair,” Lou says softly, touching Louis’ shoulder. “You boys helped save us and now you’re trapped here.”

Harry makes his way to the table, people moving aside to let him pass. “I don’t think we are anymore.”

He puts down a folded up parchment that Louis hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He opens it up to show everyone his enchanted map. Louis feels a jolt of excitement when he sees the dark stain that had previously represented Féebéni is gone, replaced by neat lines for roads and clearly labeled towns. The red dot showing their current position pulses next to a village labeled Doux Pré. Caroline comes to stand beside him, gently rubbing her finger over the dot and then letting it rest against the name of the village.

“The map’s enchanted,” Harry explains. “And it wasn’t working before, while we were here, probably because everything kept moving around too much.”

“But the land isn’t moving around anymore,” Louis realizes. “So it works now.”

Harry nods. “I’m pretty sure anyways. I mean, we didn’t have a problem getting back here from the castle. And I bet if we tried going back it would still be in the same place. I think maybe when Zayn killed Per...the Dark Queen he sort of took control of everything. I doubt it’ll move at all unless he wants it to.”

There’s silence as everyone takes this in. After a long moment, a burly man with short brown hair asks, sounding hesitantly hopeful, “So she’s really dead, then?”

“Yes,” Harry says. He meets Louis gaze. “The Dark Queen is finally gone.”

 

~*~*~*~

 

Zayn doesn’t get out of bed for three days. He doesn’t actually sleep that much, instead he just lies there listlessly while Harry brings him food and Liam cuddles up against him. Louis is sympathetic at first - if he’d found out that everyone he loved had been murdered by someone he’d thought was his friend he’d probably not feel much like getting out of bed either. But as Zayn convalesces, Louis finds himself getting stuck dealing with more and more impatient villagers who want to talk to Zayn about plans for the future. Apparently Tom and Lou had figured pretty quickly who Zayn actually was and while Harry, Louis, and Zayn had been preparing to fight the Dark Queen, Tom had gone to Caroline and together with some of the other villagers they had started up a quiet little revolution. Now that the Dark Queen was gone they were eager to get started on rebuilding their kingdom, and while Zayn remained unavailable Louis somehow found himself appointed as his stand-in. Louis liked having a little power, but that didn’t mean he was going to let Zayn just continue to laze about while Louis was forced to run his kingdom for him.

On the fourth day Louis waits until Harry was distracted with helping Lou in the kitchen and Liam had briefly wandered off outside and goes up into their room. Zayn is lying in the bed staring blankly at the wall. He doesn’t so much as stir as Louis walks in. He looks absolutely miserable and Louis feels his heart twinge at the sight of him, but he stubbornly refuses to be put off from his mission. This is for Zayn’s own good, he reminds himself.

He strides across the room and swiftly pulls the blanket from the bed. Zayn certainly reacts to that - sitting up with a yelp and turning his head to stare wide-eyed at Louis.

“Time to get up,” Louis announces loudly. “Lots of things that need doing.”

Zayn flops back down and turns over to bury his face in a pillow. “Go away,” he grumbles, words muffled.

Louis puts his hands on his hips and glares. “I will set this bed on fire if that’s what it’ll take to get you out of it,” he warns.

Zayn groans and rolls back over, hands coming up to cover his face. “What do you want, Louis?” he asks, sounding annoyed.

“I want you to get out of bed. Maybe spend a little time outside of this room,” Louis tells him. He walks over to the bed and tugs Zayn’s hands out of the way so he can look him in the eyes.

Zayn gazes back, eyes full of soul-deep misery, and Louis feels his stubborn resolve slip away.

“Why?” Zayn asks softly. “What’s the point?”

Louis sits down on the edge of the bed with a sigh, letting go of Zayn’s hands and gently carding his fingers through Zayn’s hair instead.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re feeling like shit. And you have every right to. But Zayn, you can’t just stay in bed forever.”

Zayn closes his eyes, leaning into Louis’ touch. “Can’t I?”

“No,” Louis tells him, gentle but firm. “You’ve got to get up. Get on with your life.” He pulls his hand away and stands back up. “Come on. At least get up and come down for lunch.”

Zayn thinks it over for a long moment. “Alright,” he agrees finally and for the first time in days gets out of bed and goes down the stairs.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Harry and Louis carefully start easing Zayn back into actually interacting with the world around him. The villagers all seem to understand that he’s still a bit delicate and do their best not to overwhelm him, coming to him in smaller groups and keeping the meetings a bit shorter than they had been.

A week after Zayn killing the Dark Queen there's still no signs of the land starting to move around again, so a volunteer is sent off to Bayern with Harry’s signet ring and a pair of letters for Harry and Louis’ families explaining what’s happened and reassuring them that they’re both alright. Word has also apparently begun to spread to the other villages all across Féebéni and groups of people start coming from all over. An old, mostly abandoned inn is reopened, its main dining room becoming a sort of meeting hall where everyone gathers to argue about what should happen now. Harry, Louis, and sometimes Zayn attend when they can, joining in to discuss the people’s options and helping them to start making plans.

“You realize you aren’t setting yourself up to have much control over things, right?” Louis asks Zayn as they’re heading home from yet another meeting.

Zayn shrugs. “Well sure. Seems silly to act like I’m really going to have much say in how things are going to be run, even if they do want to call me their king. Obviously I want to help as much as I can, but really, they’ve been mostly governing themselves for over a century. They’ve got a much better idea of how to run things than I do and it’s not like they need me to step in and take control now.”

Which makes sense, even if it’s not the point of view Louis would have expected a sort-of-king to have, so he doesn’t bring it up again.

They’ve been in Féebéni for over two months when Louis goes out to the barn and finds Harry sitting by the door polishing Niall’s tack, eyes suspiciously wet.

Louis sits down beside him. “Alright?” he asks gently.

Harry sniffs. “We still haven’t heard anything back,” he says, putting the saddle and bridle aside.

It takes Louis a moment to realize what he’s talking about. Right, the letters to their families. He sighs and wraps an arm around Harry’s shoulders, tugging him close.

“It’s only been a few days. The messenger has probably only just reached them.” He strokes a hand over Harry’s curls as the boy snuggles against his side. “I’m sure they’ll send someone right away. In fact, I’d be surprised if anything less than a whole squadron of knights showed up here to make sure you’re still all in one piece.”

Harry presses closer at that, turning his head to hide his face against Louis’ neck. “They’ve probably been so worried. I just left without telling them where I was going and now I’ve been missing for months,” he says, sounding miserable with guilt. Louis feels guilt welling up inside him as well, realizing he’d done the exact same thing to his own family.

Louis shifts so both of his arms are wrapped around Harry. He holds him close and gently shushes him while Harry trembles, clearly close to tears.

“We could go home, you know,” Louis points out hesitantly.

Harry pulls back, shaking his head. “We can’t,” he says, wiping at his eyes. “We’d be leaving Zayn all alone. I can’t do that.”

Louis thinks about pointing out that Zayn wouldn’t be alone, he’d still have Tom and Lou and Caroline and a whole host of other people, but he knows that’s not really what matters to Harry.

“You really love him, don’t you?” he asks, tucking a stray curl behind Harry’s ear.

“Of course,” Harry replies, furrowing his eyebrows. “Don’t you?”

Louis’ eyes meet Harry’s and he sees that same shining sincerity that had so surprised him back when they'd first started to get to know each other.

“I suppose I do,” Louis says, surprised to realize it’s the truth.

Harry leans over and kisses him. Louis clutches at his sides, kissing back desperately.

“We’ll figure it all out,” Harry breathes out between kisses. “All of us. Together.”

 

~*~*~*~

 

Lou goes into labor that night. Harry has a moment where he seems set to work himself into a panic, but then he visibly settles himself and by the time Tom is riding off to fetch the midwife he’s sitting at Lou’s bedside holding her hand and reminding her to keep taking deep breaths. Zayn’s the one who seems in danger of falling apart. He’s standing by the doorway, his entire body tense with worry. Louis wonders if he should tell him to go out to the barn and keep Niall company like he had Liam.

“She’s going to be alright, isn’t she?” Zayn asks quietly when Louis moves to stand beside him.

Louis claps him on the shoulder reassuringly. “Of course. Lou’s in good health. The baby’s right on time. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Zayn nods, relaxing a little. He turns to look at Louis. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Louis smiles at him, clapping him on the shoulder again before letting his hand drop. “Go get water. And all the spare cloths you can find.”

Louis’ seen a lot of births over the years, even assisted his mother with a few, and this one goes even better than most. Still, it’s the early hours of the morning by the time a squalling baby girl finally greets the world. Tom and Lou both look exhausted but happy as the midwife hands them their new daughter.

“She’s  _beautiful_ ,” Harry says tearfully. He’s clutching Louis’ hand and swaying a little on his feet, looking nearly as tired as Lou.

Zayn ever so carefully touches one of the baby’s tiny fists. “What’s her name?”

“Lux,” Lou tells them. “Her name is Lux.”

Louis finds himself fighting back tears of his own. “Hello Lux,” he says softly. “It’s very nice to finally meet you.”

 

~*~*~*~

 

Louis hasn’t had much time to spare lately, but what little he does he spends practicing his magic. For years doing magic had felt like trying to ride a still green colt - constantly having to fight it for dominance and hope he wouldn’t get thrown off in the process. it had been frustrating never knowing when it was going to work or not, and even more frustrating when no one seemed to understand why he was having so much trouble with it. More often than not they seemed to think it was his fault, that he just wasn’t trying hard enough.

For a long time Niall had been the only one he would talk to about any of it. Whenever he wasn’t out on patrols with Harry, Louis would sneak into his stall at night and tell him about his troubles. Niall never judged. Just listened patiently and nuzzled him comfortingly whenever he seemed especially upset. Sometimes it felt like that time spent with Niall was the only thing keeping him sane.

He had spent years trying to be a good sorcerer and never succeeding despite all his efforts and then Zayn had so casually given him the solution to all his problems. Of course he couldn’t be a sorcerer, he was a mage.

Caroline had told him that there were quite a few mages around Féebéni, though none of them were particularly powerful. It makes Louis wonder about his father - almost certainly the source of his abilities, but he doesn’t dwell on his curiosity for long. He’d come to terms years ago with never knowing much about his real father.

He’s up in their attic room absently paging through his old spell book when Zayn appears in the doorway.

“What are you up to?” he asks.

Louis smirks and waves his hand, making a handful of snow sprinkle down over Zayn’s head. “Practicing.”

Zayn laughs, shaking the snow from his hair. “You’re getting really good at that. I’m honestly impressed with how quickly you’ve gotten a handle on it.”

Louis shrugs, shutting the book and putting it aside. “You know if I hadn’t met you I’d still only be able to set things on fire and every once in a while make spells work by accident,” he says softly, still looking down at his lap. “I never would have figured out what I was doing wrong if it weren’t for you.”

“I think you would have,” Zayn says. Louis looks up at him, surprised, and finds Zayn smiling softly at him. “I mean, you might not have ever known the word for what you are, but you’d have figured out how to make your magic work eventually. You wouldn’t have given up until you did.”

Louis’ chest feels tight with some unnamable emotion. Slowly he climbs off the bed and walks over to Zayn. Zayn stands perfectly still, watching him as he reaches up and places his hands on Zayn’s cheeks before tilting his face up and kissing him.

“Oh,” Zayn breathes when Louis pulls back. He rests their foreheads together, hands settling on Louis’ hips.

“It just didn’t seem fair,” Louis whispers. “That Harry got to kiss you and I still hadn’t.”

“Right,” Zayn huffs, clearly amused. “That doesn’t seem fair at all. Except now you’ve kissed me while I was awake and Harry’s only gotten to do it while I was asleep. I think he might deserve a do-over, you know, if we’re being fair.” He tightens his hold on Louis’ hips. “Don’t worry,” he teases. “You can watch that one, too.”

“As long as I’m there to supervise,” Louis agrees, not really joking. Zayn laughs, bright and happy, and Louis tugs their mouths back together, kissing him silent.

 

~*~*~*~

 

They’re all outside, Liam and Niall chasing each other around in the open field while Zayn quietly sketches something and Louis sits listening to Harry tell an unnecessarily long and convoluted story about Lou teaching him how to bake a pie.

It’s nice, peaceful. And as Louis watches Liam pretend to snap at Niall’s tail, Harry’s head resting on his shoulder, he realizes this is the happiest he’s been in a long time.

The calm won’t last, of course. Any day now at least half of Bayern’s army is probably going to show up in search of Harry. And if Louis doesn’t hear back from his own family soon he’ll have to consider leaving, at least for a little while, to go let them know that he’s alright.

But he can worry about all of that later. All that matters right now is getting to spend some time with his new friends. With these two boys who feel more like family with each passing day.

“Hey,” Harry says. Louis turns his head and Harry smiles up at him. “I’m really glad you were in Niall’s stall that night.”

Louis smiles back at him fondly. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Niall drop his head and start to graze while Liam pads over to sit next to Zayn, looking down at his sketch with his head cocked in apparent interest. Zayn tilts the paper to give Liam a better view.

“Yeah,” Louis says. “Me, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Major Character Death is Perrie, not one of the boys.
> 
> A HUGE thank you to all the people who helped me see this monster of a story through to completion, but especially to [Rachel](http://astro-frog5.livejournal.com/) for her tireless beta work and to my darling Liz for letting me whine to her about this thing for months even after she found out I was making her fave a dog.
> 
> [This](http://tomsawyermaneuver.tumblr.com/tagged/fairytale%20au) is my tumblr tag for the story. Feel free to drop by and say hi or ask me any questions you have over there as well.
> 
> Quick translation guide:  
> Rubinberge - ruby mountains  
> Quelle - source  
> irrlicht - wander light, german term for will-o-wisp  
> Féebéni - fairy blessed  
> Blut - blood  
> Doux Pré - sweet meadow


End file.
